A Descendant's Carol
by StangeInterests32
Summary: Chad Charming hates Christmas. The decorations. The cheer. The whole spectacle. If he had his way, Christmas would be just another day during winter break, and he'd sleep right through it. But this year, after a particularly grand showing of bad temperament - call it fate, destiny, the Universe - it's decided that Chad Charming needs a refresher on the good of the season.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: So, I was watching one of my favorite movies the other night, and inspiration hit. I thought why not try my own take at a Christmas classic. And luckily, Descendants has just the prefect character for the job. I'll be borrowing characters from a few sources – the movies, the books, Wicked World, maybe a few of my own fanfics, and anything that helps tell the story properly.

Please enjoy…

* * *

 **Prologue**

Gerald, the Marquess of Charmington, and the eldest son of the Grand Duke and his wife, Prudence had been gone these past seven years. A tragedy for the nobility of Charmington, but a loss that that nearly cost King Charming and Queen Cinderella their closest friends and advisors. But it was the King and Queen's son that took the loss probably harder than anyone except Gerald's parents.

Chad ran away from the castle at the news that night, the tears running down his face, and no destination in mind. By the time he stopped running, his legs were burning, and he could barely catch his breath. He fell onto his hands and knees. He looked around and saw that he was in the woods behind the palace. He crawled over, not caring that his hands were being cut by twigs and rocks. That his pants were being dirtied by dust and grass. He just pressed himself against a large tree, hugged his knees to himself, and cried. Cried for the friend – the closest thing he had to a brother – that he had lost. He cried until he ran out of tears and fell asleep against the tree.

After a frantic search, that was how King Charming found his nine-year-old son the day the son of his friend and advisor passed away. It was a Christmas Eve that all would rather soon wished never happened, but for years would affect those involved – some more than others.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: So, on the first chapter, I realized I wrote myself into a corner involving everyone's ages by saying Chad was eleven. With the ages that I have him, and everyone else at, for the rest of the story, him being eleven doesn't work. To remedy that I went back and lowered Chad's age, and adjusted Gerry's age just slightly. I already updated the prologue to reflect that, and can now safely say that the story works better now. Other than that,

Please enjoy...

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

Chad was finishing up getting dressed after his shower now that the tourney game was over. It was a special holiday match between Auradon Prep and Neverland's Lost Boys. As such, most of the parents of the team were in town. He knew some would be flying or driving out tonight if they were close enough. Others, like his family, would make the trip in the morning. Unlike most of the other members of the team, he knew this game might go longer than normal since the Lost Boys had one of the better records this season. As such, most of the other guys on the team now had to rush back to their dorm to change. Chad had just brought his clothes with him. He buttoned up his shirt but decided to forgo the tie. He put on his coat and, despite knowing his mother would hate seeing it, put his beanie on. He slammed his locker shut just as the tourney team's equipment manager walked in. He was a small, lanky looking kid of fourteen. His brown hair was shaggy and a little too long, falling down over his black, chunky square-rimmed glasses. It looked like he was trying to carry the entire team's sticks in his hands all at once. He nearly succeeded, until it came time to open the door to where they were held. That was when he fumbled and dropped them everywhere.

"Really, Pat?" Chad derided.

"It's the last thing I need to put away before I can get dressed for the team's Christmas party," Patrick said as he scrambled to frantically pick up the strewn about equipment. Chad scoffed at the younger classmate's statement. "You're going?"

"Just for the food…maybe a cheerleader," he replied snidely as he walked off. Too bad they'll be out of their uniforms, he thought with a regretful smile.

A few minutes later, Chad was walking into the dining hall where the Christmas party was being held by the tourney team and the cheerleaders. He huffed at the sight of all the red and green decorations. The fake miniature Christmas trees that hung on the pillars and the effigies of snowmen and snowflakes that were hanging along the walls all felt like they were an assault on his eyes.

"Spare me," he muttered as he casually walked over to the food table. He grabbed a plate and hoped he didn't lose whatever he chose from listening to the Christmas music blasting from the speakers. After grabbing himself a mixture of food, he made his way over to an empty table. As he sat down, he gritted his teeth at the sight of the plastic Santa Claus centerpiece on the table. He looked around before reaching over and knocking it down.

"Happy Christmas, Chaddy," came a voice from behind him. With all the derision he was feeling he almost rolled his eyes, but simply put a forced smile on his face as the person came around to sit in the chair next to him.

"Harriet," he said as he came face to face with Captain Hook's daughter. He was surprised to see her slightly dressed up. She was dressed in a long red wool coat that looked like her normal pirate's coat but was cut short in the front to stop at her waist and look like a blazer, but flowed out in the back to her ankles. She was wearing a white V-neck sweater under the coat along with a loose black leather miniskirt and black leggings and pair of ankle boots. "You clean up nice," he complimented, a small genuine smile cracking his otherwise moody face.

"Would've thought you could've come up with something better than that," she rebuked him.

"Normally I could, but I'm not gonna lie, part of me doesn't really want to be here."

"Not a fan of Christmas parties?"

"I'm fine with parties, it's the other half," he clarified.

"Christmas?" she asked, slightly caught off guard. "You're not a fan of _Christmas_?"

"You are?"

"It's a day where people give you stuff for free, hell yes I'm a fan. This might come as a surprise, but even on an island full of villains, there are a few of us who celebrate Christmas. I just figured that here in Auradon, well…everyone loved it."

"Yeah, well, I'm the only one who sees it for what it is – a giant waste of time," he said in disdain.

"Christmas? A waste of time?"

"Don't tell me you have plans?" Chad wondered.

Harriet nodded. "Christmas Eve with Janey, Mal, and their parents. Then Christmas day at the palace with Belle and King Beasty." Chad looked at her like she was lying. "What? I want to spend some time with Janey. But Belle says she'd like me to be at the palace what with her letting me live there as well. Besides, with Mal and Ben probably spending the day together, they'll need the company."

"There you are, Sweetie," the two teens heard from out of nowhere before Chad could respond. They turned and saw Chad's parents walking toward the table. "I thought you were going to call me to let us know you'd gotten here?" Cinderella asked. Harriet began to stand when Cinderella motioned for her to stay seated, not wanting to make the situation feel too formal.

"I got distracted," he answered flatly.

"I'm not surprised," said his father as he pulled out a chair for his wife.

Chad smiled forcefully. His parents knew his weakness for a pretty face, and the blonde in front of him definitely fit that criteria, even if for once his behavior was motivated by something else.

"It's Harriet, correct?" Cinderella asked as she took her seat.

"Yes ma'am," Harriet answered with a small nod. Cinderella took a long look at the young woman and could definitely see why Chad had been mentioning her every now and then. She then turned to glance at her son who was picking at his plate. " _Jane_ , has mentioned you a few times," she said, choosing to spare Chad a moment's awkwardness since she wasn't sure that the pretty girl knew he talked about her. "But she never mentioned how beautiful you are."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Harriet said to the compliment. She felt her cheeks become warm, but knew she wasn't blushing.

"And I love that jacket," Cinderella added.

"Thank you again. It was early Christmas present from Jane. She said she wanted to make sure I had something nice to wear for tonight's party."

Chad scoffed involuntarily.

"Chad," his father rebuked him.

"I didn't mean it that way," Chad defended himself.

"We know how you meant it, it's still rude," Cinderella told him.

"Chad, I'm surprised you're here," said another girl that approached the table. "Hi, Aunt Cindy, Uncle Charming."

"Janey," Harriet said happily as she stood up to hug her. "You're late."

"Sorry, Dad made me and Mal help Mom find the ornaments for the tree so we could decorate it later," Jane explained.

"You mean to tell me that Dagon – Diablo himself – likes Christmas?" Chad asked, totally stunned at what he'd just heard

Jane nodded. "Chopped the tree for the house, himself. And don't even get me started on the look on his face when Mom started baking cookies."

"How is your father?" Charming asked.

"Good, still acclimating to the what's basically a time jump for him," Jane answered him as she sat down. "Says it's nice though that Christmas doesn't change that much."

"See, Chad? If the Jane and Mal's Daddy can have the Christmas Spirit, so can you," Harriet said to him. She then turned toward Jane. "Chaddy here doesn't seem to –"

"I know," Jane cut her off. Harriet took note of the empathetic, almost sad, expression on her friend's face. Jane pushed some hair behind her hair before leaning in toward the prince. "It's not healthy to be this angry, Chad."

Chad gave a small nod, maybe it was in acknowledgement, or maybe it was in preparation, but it was not expected what came next. He leaned in toward Jane, both hands lying flat across the table to steady himself. "You and Mal have been getting close, right?" Jane nodded. "It's nice having a sister isn't it?" Jane nodded again, feeling a little sick at the thought of where Chad might take this. "Imagine waking up this morning with her –," he began saying callously.

"Don't you dare finish that sentence," Jane demanded of him, her eyes glazed over from watering. She knew how much he hated this time of year, but even he usually held back for her, so this was uncharted territory for the young half-fairy.

"Chad!" came his mother's voice in shocked anger.

"What am I missing?" Harriet asked, feeling both nervous, and suddenly like smacking the royal for making her friend nearly cry.

"So you pick up your cheerleader, yet?" came a squeaky, breaking voice. Oh, come on, more people, Chad thought as he instantly recognized the voice as Patrick's. "Or did you – Harriet!" the young boy suddenly cried out and froze as he spied the school's mascot out of her armor.

"Hi, Patty," Harriet waved and smiled her bright smile that had already made her a favorite amongst the boys at Auradon Prep.

"Uh…um…you look pretty," he stammered, then widened his eyes as he realized what he said. "I didn't mean to say that. Not that you don't look pretty. You do. But I meant…help," he said, turning toward Chad.

Cinderella and King Charming both smiled, Charming letting out a small laugh at the young teen's reaction to a girl it was obvious he had a crush on. Chad just rolled his eyes and practically growled before letting out a deep breath.

"You do look pretty Harriet. I like your hair, the slight curls suit you, and your make-up brings out your eyes." Chad then turned toward Patrick. "See, not that hard." He then turned back toward Harriet. "You can kick my ass after the party," he added before getting up and walking over behind Jane. He leaned down, one hand on her shoulder and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. "I'm sorry."

He didn't say any more. He didn't even touch the rest of his food, just left it on the table. He just grabbed his jacket and walked off, back to his dorm.

"Chad," he heard his mother calling after him.

"I'll see you tomorrow when we need to leave," he called back without looking.

"Chad, this is not how you act at Christmas," his father tried.

"Humbug," he shouted.

"Does someone want to tell me what the bloody hell just happened?" Harriet requested.

"Chad hates Christmas. And he can't stand the constant reminder of it from the decorations, and the songs, and people saying Merry Christmas," Jane answered her.

"Why does he hate Christmas?" Harriet asked.

"My brother," Patrick answered.

Harriet looked toward Chad's parents. They nodded. She then looked back at Patrick, waiting for more.

"We were really young," Jane began. "Chad was nine, so Patrick and I were about seven then. Gerry – Gerald – was Patrick's older brother. He was how much older than you?"

"Nine," Patrick answered Jane.

"So, he was older than Chad?" Harriet asked.

Jane nodded. "Sixteen. I remember going over there to visit and play. Gerry used to pretty much watch over the three of us. Chad especially. He was like the big brother Chad never had. Kind of how he is with me most of the time."

"So what happened?"

"It was about a week before Christmas, and Gerry got sick," Patrick started. "Everyone thought it was just the flu or something. He got antibiotics and other medicine, but…," Patrick trailed off, not able to finish.

"It was Christmas Eve and Gerry had gone to take a nap, and he…he never woke up," Jane informed, her voice choking at the end.

"Oh God. What was it?"

"We weren't told," Jane said with a sad look toward Chad's parents. "Chad took it harder than any of us. Ran away when they told him. He refused to go to the funeral. He's still angry about it, even now."

"I'll forgive the anger, he has a right to it, but are you going to let him get away with what he did right now?" Harriet questioned both Jane and Cinderella.

"I feel bad saying something. I mean, he's hurting," Jane told her.

"Hurting's fine, but Janey, what he just did, that was just mean. And to _you_ of all people."

"We'll talk to him tomorrow about it. Get him to apologize," Cinderella spoke for her husband and herself.

"Have you guys tried to get him to…I don't know, talk about it?

"Us, his parents, Patrick's parents," Jane said. "Sometimes I think that he'd rather be angry."

* * *

Chad was practically stomping his way back to his dorm. The small bit of snowfall that had fallen the past few days coated the grounds, though the groundskeepers had done a good job of clearing the sidewalks and walkways, so he didn't have to worry about trudging through the snow in the fading light of the evening. He saw a few of the younger classmen, two guys and two girls, taking advantage of the fresh fall and building a snowman. They didn't see him coming and were unprepared for him reaching over and knocking the top ball of snow completely off.

"Hey," one of the girls shouted after him.

Chad paid her no attention. He just kept walking until he reached his dorm hall. He reached the door and was fishing out his keys since the hall itself was locked already. He was fitting the key into the lock when he looked into the glass of the small square window on the door. He gasped and almost jumped back when the face staring back at him wasn't his own.

"Gerry?" he whispered as he finally made out the image. Before he could blink, the face faded, and the reflection was his own once again.

Chad shook off the momentary shock and entered the dorm. He made his way over to his room, thankful that his roommate had left for home early. He threw his backpack down next to his desk, turned on the lamp that was on it for a little bit of light, and started to change out of his clothes and into some more comfortable sweats and a T-shirt. He had just settled onto his bed when he heard his tablet chirp from his desk. He recognized the sound as a request for a video chat. He rolled off his bed and sat at the desk, knowing who it was and that if he didn't answer, she'd keep trying all night.

"Hi, Mom," he greeted as the sight of his mother came on his screen. He could tell from the background that she had stepped away from the party to call him.

"Chad," Cinderella said sweetly, though the usual smile from seeing her son was absent.

"Fairy Godmother arrived a few minutes after you left," she told him. Great, just what I need, he thought.

"How mad is she at what I said to Jane?"

"She isn't." Chad looked at her surprised. "Not through any effort of mine. Jane saw her coming and asked us not to tell her. It took a little begging to make Harriet agree, but you got lucky that girl was willing to protect you."

Chad smiled – almost smugly. "Well, she's always been a good little sister."

He saw his mother inhale deeply, probably to keep from yelling. Yup, she's mad, he thought. His father was usually the one to raise his voice when he screwed up like this. His mother, ever the lady, always held back. But when he saw moments like this, he knew that, at least in her opinion, that he'd gone too far.

"Speaking of little sisters, we'll be by a little early to talk to you about your behavior tonight."

"Early?" Chad whined.

"No sense making Dizzy wait to get picked up just because we need to once again remind you about how you're supposed to conduct yourself."

"Does she have to come home with us?"

"Yes, she's family, Chad."

Chad rolled his eyes.

" _Their_ family," he remarked.

"And this is a chance to repair all that," Cinderella countered. "Besides, even if you don't return the emotion, that little girl adores you."

"Don't remind me."

At that comment, Cinderella had had enough. She was not one to get openly angry at her son. That was more his father. But she'd finally heard all that she could take.

"We'll talk about that tomorrow as well." Chad rolled his eye again. "And you will stop rolling your eyes at me, do you understand young man?" Chad remained silent. "I want an answer."

"Yeah," he mumbled. His mother raised an eyebrow at him. "Yes ma'am."

"I get that you don't like this time of year. But you will not ruin that little girl's first Christmas with us. I don't care how you do it, but you make an effort to at least be pleasant when she's around." Chad nodded. "We'll see you tomorrow. The screen went black and Chad put the tablet back down.

He was about to get up when he heard what could only be described as a death moan. He looked around and shook off the noise when he realized he was alone. He was about to get up again when the moan happened again, louder this time. Suddenly there was a rapping at his window that caused him to nearly jump from the chair. Out of nowhere, the wind had picked up and was slamming the branches of a tree against his window.

"Chaaaaaaad!"

He turned toward the closed door just as figure stopped through it. It was large – taller than himself. It was somewhere between pale and a muted gray. He could see almost completely through it, but still had enough clarity to it to make out what looked like a suit with a sash across the chest on a lean looking body. The figure had strong looking features; a sharp looking chin, pronounced cheek bones, an almost regal looking nose, and short, classically parted hair.

"Gerry?" Chad whispered, not believing what he was seeing.

"Hello, Chad," Gerry said, a slight echo making his voice sound ever the more haunting.

Chad slowly rose from the chair and approached the ghostly figure. He cautiously extended his hand. It trembled as it neared the image of his old friend. His fingers passed through Gerry's chest when they should've stopped. Gerry let out a ghastly yell that made Chad jump back into his chair, himself knowing that if the chair hadn't actually been there, he'd have fallen to the floor.

"Convinced?"

"That I'm going insane…yeah," Chad nodded.

"Why do you doubt what you're seeing with your own eyes."

"Because people are practicing magic again. Or…or maybe it was the food from the party. The turkey could've been undercooked. Or maybe stuffing didn't agree with me," he tried to convince himself. He pointed an accusing finger at the spirit in front of him. "There's more gravy than grave in you… _Gerry_."

He watched as Gerry closed his eyes and suddenly, all the lights in the room turned on. Then off. And then began flickering until finally they returned to their previous off state.

"Okay…so you're not make believe. But if you are real, why are you here?"

"For you."

"Me?" Chad asked, not believing the ghost. Gerry opened his mouth to speak but Chad interrupted. "Not that I want to stop you, but it's kind of freaking me out you just standing there. Can you – ghosts – sit down?"

"We can," Gerry confirmed.

Chad motioned with his head toward his bed. Gerry took the invitation and at down. "So why are you here for me?"

"To save you," Gerry answered.

"Save me? From what?"

"Yourself." Chad looked at Gerry like he was insane. "Chad, buddy, you are doing some serious damage to your soul."

"My _soul_? That's what you're here about? What would better save my soul is a good night's sleep."

"Mortals, especially teenagers, always thinking in the here and now," Gerry seethed. "It's always me, me, me. And you, you've become so infatuated with you, yourself, and, well…you, that you don't see what you're doing to the people around you. To the relationships you have with them. The damage you're doing to them. And most importantly, the weight it's putting on your soul."

"I don't feel any heavier," Chad remarked as he motioned around himself.

"The chains you're creating for yourself, they're the ones you'll wear after you've passed on. When the body is in the ground and it's time to answer for your deeds. And believe me, after seven years, you've got quite the chain. And if you don't make some improvements, it'll get bigger, link by link, yard by yard."

"Let's say I believe you. Why warn me now?"

"Because it's Christmas Eve. It's a time when miracles can happen."

"Miracles? Miracles are fairy tales. The only thing that happens on Christmas Eve is some people never wake up on Christmas morning," Chad replied angrily.

"And that's why whomever – whatever – decided that you were deserving of a second chance sent me. Because all your anger, all your negativity was born that day, seven years ago. I get that it hurt when I died, but Chad, after all this time you need to let yourself grieve. Or even with this chance, you can't move on and save yourself."

"Do I even get a choice in this?" Chad asked solemnly. Gerry shook his head. "So, how's it gonna happen?"

"You'll be visited by three spirits."

"Three?" Chad gasped.

"Yes, three. The first will be here at midnight. The second, at one," Gerry began to inform him.

"Can't they all just come at once? Get it over with?"

"And the third? The third will come at an hour of his choosing. And just to warn you, I've heard that that the spirits like to take on familiar faces. They think it makes things run smoother, so don't be too alarmed if you see someone or something you recognize."

"And what happens if this doesn't work?" Chad inquired.

Gerry rose from the bed and started walking toward the door. "Link by link. Yard by yard." He then pointed toward Chad's window. "Forced into a personal hell of walking the Earth, dragging the weight of your anger and sins, and seeing the happiness, the joy, the anger, the sadness, and the pain of human-kind and not being able to take part in it, or do anything about. I'm praying for you on this one Chad. If for not for yourself, at least make an effort for me."

With no more words of warning, Gerry began walking out as he came in. Chad was left sitting in his desk chair, eyes watering and a single tear running down his cheek.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 2 - The Ghost of Christmas Past**

Despite being forewarned about his appointment later, Chad decided to call it an early night and pretend that the Christmas party, the argument with his mother, and his "visit" from Gerry had never even happened. As it was, he was out cold and dead to the world by ten – early even for him. Suddenly, he was awoken jarred awake by his phone's alarm. He sprang from his bed, pressing himself into the headboard. He looked around and realized that his phone was still going off. He reached for, but just as his hand was about to grab it, it shut off, the alarm no longer blaring.

"What the…?" he said to himself as he stared at the phone, his hand still extended. Out of nowhere, his room suddenly became illuminated by a blinding light so intense that he had to shield his eyes. "What the hell, man?" he shouted out as he closed his eyes tightly and turned his head while still covering his eyes in an attempt to lessen the shock and slight pain the light was causing.

"Too bright?" he heard a voice say.

"Yes, shut it off," he shouted.

Suddenly, the light faded until it was only shining enough to brighten the side of the room opposite the bed. Chad lowered his hand tentatively and turned toward the source. His eyes still burned a little from the heavy brilliance of a few seconds earlier, so he blinked them rapidly a few times to try and make them feel normal again. When he was certain that he could see without too much interference, he finally looked at whatever had entered his room.

"Jane?" he asked, caught completely off guard. She shook her head, a slight wry smirk curving her lips. "But you look just like –," he stopped himself, his mind finally clicking. "Oh God, what time is it?"

"That would one," the effigy in front of him spoke. "Well, two minutes passed now," she added.

"Crap," Chad groaned as he dropped his head. "You're the first spirit aren't you?"

"The Ghost of Christmas Past, to be exact. The name's a bit of a mouthful, so yes, you can just stick with Spirit while we do this," the Spirit informed him.

Chad looked the Spirit over. It looked like Jane, right down to the dark hair pulled back in a mohawk style ponytail, beaming blue eyes, and slightly pale skin. But her face was still, bordering on stoic. And then there was the way she was standing – shoulders squared, her arms in front of her, hands folded together, her legs just about shoulder width apart – it was calm, yet stern looking. Everything about her was authoritative. The opposite of the actual Jane who, despite gaining some confidence lately, still tended to come across as shy and unassertive. Even the way she was dressed – an ankle-length blue robe with attached hood, what looked like a chunky pair of ankle boots, and a chic looking pair of wire rimmed glassed smartly perched on her nose – screamed that she was all business. I wonder if this is what her mother looked like when she first appeared to my mother, he thought.

"Look… _Spirit_ …no disrespect, but I've, uh, kind of changed my mind about this whole thing," Chad told her.

"Well that's not up to you at this point anymore. So if you would please…," the Spirit motioned with her hand for Chad to get out of the bed. "The faster we begin, the faster I can get you to the point of all this."

Chad groaned and got out of bed, slipping on his slippers and moving toward the surprisingly solid ghostly figure before him. Once he was right next to her, he started to hold out his hand when she surprised him by taking his arm. He looked down at the embrace. "Yes?" the Spirit asked.

"Well…shouldn't _I_ be the one taking your hand or something?"

"Wow, your parents really dropped the ball on the whole raising a gentleman thing, didn't they?" she responded with a glib expression before raising her free hand and snapping her fingers, engulfing both Chad and herself in brilliant white light.

* * *

When the light faded Chad found himself with the Spirit standing in a hallway. The floor was carpeted in gleaming baby blue and white, with poinsettia decorations hanging along the walls with the occasional miniature Christmas tree to break up the design every few feet. The trees had to be small because even with the substantial width of the hallway, anything larger that the three foot trees would be too wide and make passing through difficult. There was the subtle hint of evergreen in the air from the live trees that gave him a sudden feeling of nostalgia. But it was the aroma of freshly baked sugar cookies that captured his memories and caused a smile to cross his face.

"Recognize where we are?" the Spirit asked him.

"I'm home…the palace," he answered, as he pulled away from the Spirit. He took a few steps, taking a big, deep breath to capture as much of the smells as he could. "But it hasn't been decorated like this in years. Mom thought all the extra trees were a little…to in your face. So she started to go for a more toned down look. When is this then?" The Spirit shrugged. "Yeah right, you zap us somewhere, and don't know?"

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps could be heard coming down the hallway. Chad turned and felt his eyes nearly bug out of his head.

"Mom," he gasped as she approached. "Don't freak out okay, this is gonna sound –"

Chad stopped talking as he saw, and mostly felt, his mother walk the through him. He took in a deep breath as she passed, and then he started to feel his chest, looking for some kind of injury.

"What the hell just happened?" Chad asked the Spirit.

"All this…just shadows from the past. We can watch. We can listen. But that's all. They can't see us. They can't hear us. And most of all they can't feel us. So I suggest you follow dear old Mommy to see why we're here," the Spirit advised him.

Chad went in the direction his mother went in, catching up just before she turned into one of the rooms. He paused for a second. He knew where she turned and he was nervous because of it. Steeling himself, he followed her. He walked into what he knew was his bedroom, and felt his jaw slightly drop at the sight of himself.

"Is that Little Chad?" the Spirit asked. Chad turned, almost shocked to see the Spirit since he was sure he'd left her in the hallway. "Spirit…remember? I pop in when necessary. And again…is that Little Chad?" she asked again, this time, the sincerity was evident over the almost snide tone of seconds earlier.

"I'm…," Chad starts as he begins to look around the room for something – anything – to narrow down his age. He walked over to his desk and saw a picture that was laying on it. It was drawing of a Christmas tree with his mother, father, and himself next to it on one side. Oh the other side of the tree are what looks like Fairy Godmother and Jane, the picture of the young fairy with wings and waving out to the him as he looked at it. Written across the top are the words, MERRY CHRISTMAS, in lettering and spelling way beyond what Jane was capable of at that time. He smiled at the thought of Jane sitting at her house, at her little desk, or the kitchen table, or laying on the floor, crayons spread out so she could make this.

"I'm five," he says just above a whisper as he remembered Jane giving him this when they were little.

"Chad, Sweetie," he heard his mother call him. He looked up, ready to respond when he realized that his mother was actually talking to his younger self. Right now, five year old Chad was lying across the bay window that looked out over the coast and the ocean. "As they were leaving, Jane said you looked sad."

Little Chad shrugged.

"Come on, honey, what is it? Tell Mommy."

Little Chad sat up, crossed his legs in front of him and looked at his mother. Then he dropped his gaze and turned toward the window again. Cinderella looked out to see what her son was looking at. "The ocean?" Chad shook his head. She looked again. There wasn't really much out there. Just the ocean and, for better or for worse…

"The Isle of the Lost?" Chad nodded glumly. "Why would you be thinking about such a bad place, Sweetie?"

"Does Santa leave presents for the kids that live there?" Chad asked.

Cinderella was caught off guard. She didn't know how to answer her son, because she'd never considered the question. While the thought of all those villains having children seemed like an impossibility, even she had to admit that it _was_ possible. What kind of parents were the villains? What were the children there like because of them?

"Aw, does Little Chad _actually_ give a damn about the Villain Kids?" the Spirit asked as Cinderella began to try and give her some kind of explanation to her son.

"I didn't know any better," Chad responded. The Spirit looked at him questioningly. "I grew up. I realized that bad apples don't fall far from the tree."

"Bad apples?"

"You see who their parents are," Chad said.

"Mal and her bunch seem to be okay. Freddie and Harriet –"

"Not everyone's good," he cut her off. "Who your parent are matters." The Spirit scoffed. "What?"

"By that logic, you should be hard-working, selfless, and compassionate. All traits whose paths do not lead to me."

"Can we just get out of here?" Chad asked rudely.

The Spirit shook her head. "Not just yet. I still think there's something we should see."

"Like what?" Chad rolled his eyes.

"You know what, Mommy, I'm gonna go write a letter to Santa asking him to make sure he gives presents to the kids on the Isle," younger Chad said excitedly.

Cinderella laughed happily and held her son's face gently. "I think that would be a great idea, baby," she told him, a bright, practically glowing, smile on her face.

Chad got up from the bay seat and started to run toward his desk. All of a sudden he stopped and ran back to his mother. He waved her closer. She leaned down until she was almost eye level with him.

"Will Fairy Godmother let Santa through the barrier?"

Cinderella chuckled. "I'll talk to her so she knows to let Santa through," she answered him. Chad gave a small little jump of excitement and then ran off to his desk. Cinderella just stared at her son, a look of pride on her face at how her son was acting.

"See Chad, you weren't so bad. Tell me, is that sweet little boy still in there?" the Spirit asked him surprisingly gentle – a little hopeful.

"Would we be here if he were?" Chad admitted. The Spirit gave a nod of acknowledgment and proceeded to walk up next to him.

"You're right," she said as she took his arm again. "I think we've gleaned all we can from here. So, let's try and look somewhere else," she decided as she snapped her fingers again.

* * *

When they reappeared, Chad and the Spirit were outside. The air was cold and crisp and the ground was covered in white. Chad could feel it on his skin, but found it odd that he didn't actually feel cold despite not wearing any kind of winter clothes. "So, when are we now?"

"You tell me," the Spirit said as she pointed just to the right of them.

Chad looked and smiled. He saw Gerry, Patrick, Jane, and himself walking up the hill. Jane and Patrick were six; he knew because he and Gerry were carrying two sleds each. One belonged to each of them, but the second ones they were carrying were brand new sleds that belonged to Patrick and Jane. He remembered them getting them as Christmas presents because their parents finally decided they were old enough finally go sledding. That makes me about eight, he thought as he watched the way Jane practically skipped along the snow as she held his hand. She was smiling from ear to ear, and Chad remembered that he had to tell her to calm down because she was almost dragging him along up the hill.

"Are we almost there?" Jane asked excitedly, eager to finally be able to use her sled like Chad.

"Almost," Gerry said as he and Patrick traveled just a little bit ahead of Chad and Jane.

"Well, where are we?" the Spirit asked him.

"Tremaine Hill." The Spirit looked at him in disbelief. "You heard me. There a _few_ relatives on that side that aren't horrible. Mom still sends Christmas cards. But today…Gerry and I are taking Patrick and Jane sledding. Jane's really excited. Patrick…he's being a little wuss."

The Spirit poked him in the ribs.

"What? He's afraid of getting hurt. I keep telling him its snow, he'll be fine."

"He's six. He's scared," the Spirit reminded him. "I mean you don't seem to have a problem making sure Jane is safe, do you?" she asked as she pointed to the group. They had finally reached the top of the hill and Chad was checking Jane over. He made sure her jacket was buttoned. Her gloves were on securely. He even checked to make sure that her headband, complete with attached bow, was fitted in place. Chad chuckled at the sight of six-year-old Jane. She was an adorable kid, he thought. It even looked like he was offering to go down with her on her first run.

"Why does Jane get the awesome Chad Charming big brother treatment – and Patrick gets treated like an afterthought?" the Spirit wanted to know.

"Do you see the fifteen year old guy with him? He's got a big brother…he doesn't need another."

The Spirit gave a nod of more or less. "I'm sure Gerry has that same thought about being a big brother. Screw you. Screw Jane too, huh?"

"Watch your mouth okay," Chad replied angrily. "Gerry was awesome. He makes sure Patrick is okay because honestly, the kid's still kind of afraid of his own shadow sometimes. But he still made sure I was okay, and he even looked after Jane when she came around."

"So I guess Gerry passed away before he taught you that it was okay be a big brother to more than just one person, then?" Chad looked at her like he was holding back, a rarity for him. "When it comes to Jane you are pretty good at playing big brother. But the one who _actually_ lost a big brother. The one who _needs_ a big brother. Who, for reasons that are beyond me, has decided to latch onto you to fill that void. And you? You're too caught up in your own teenage crap to see it."

"It's not my job to look out for him," Chad almost shouted.

"It wasn't Gerry's to look out for you, or for Jane. But he did, not because he was asked, not because he was supposed to – but because he wanted to. Because he was a good person that decided it was only right to look out for those around him. And instead of honoring that, you piss all over that memory."

Chad scowled at the spirit, but the tears watering in his eyes were evidence that she had struck a nerve.

"The truth – like the past – hurts sometimes doesn't it?"

"We're done here," Chad growled.

"We could stand to –"

"We're done," he repeated, his voice almost venomous.

The Spirit smiled. "I suppose we could make our last appointment a little early," she said cheerfully.

"No I mean we're done. Take me back to my room," Chad ordered.

The Spirit shook her head. "Like I said, we have one more appointment. And the best was saved for last," she informed him, an almost evil smirk on her face. Before Chad could protest, the Spirit was already snapping her fingers.

* * *

When they appeared again they are inside a building. The hallways were a sterile white, the floors covered in a light green and gray tile. The occasional voice came over a PA system, announcing messages that escaped Chad's attention. In fact, everything seemed to escaping Chad's attention the Spirit noticed. He was staring blankly down the hallway, his body still and his face frozen and the color drained from it as he read the sign attached to the end of the hallway wall.

"Take me to my room," he said.

"We still haven't seen –"

"I don't care, take me back," Chad demanded. "I don't want to be here."

"You _have_ to, though," the Spirit told him. "I know it's hard, and I'm sorry for looking gleeful a moment ago, but you _do_ need to see this."

"No, please, I don't want to. Take me back to my room," Chad begged the Spirit. He turned her toward him, and looked into her eyes. They were full of fear and heartbreak. "Please. Take me back to my room. Take me to see anything else, just not this. Please, I'm begging."

"I'm sorry, Chad," the Spirit said, genuine sympathy for what she knew was to come.

"Code Blue, Emergency Room, bed 28. Repeat: Code Blue, Emergency Room, bed 28," came the announcement over the PA system.

Chad stood frozen. Tears were once again welling in his eyes, and if the Spirit didn't know any better, she'd have thought he was going to start shaking. As it was, she needed him to move. She gently took his hand and began leading him. He was tentative at first, but soon enough, she was able to get him moving. When they reached the end of the hallway, they turned to their left, away from the direction that the sign that read, EMERGENCY ROOM, was actually pointing to. Going right, like they were directed, took them to the sign-in desk and waiting area. Going left, took them straight into the triage area. She walked them passed the walls until they were in the thick of things.

Nurses were running back and forth, clearing the hallway. Outside the immediate area of a door with the number 28 on top of the doorway, Chad saw a nurse gently pushing Gerry's parents out of the room. The Archduke looked pale, like all the energy had been sucked out of him. His wife, Prudence, looked into the room in horror, tears running down her face. Suddenly, from the opposite end of the hall, a crash team came running though. Chad saw them speed into Gerry's room. He tentatively moved closer, still holding the hand of the Spirit. He could hear the commotion from inside.

"Someone talk to me," he heard what must be a doctor.

"Heart rate, 65 bpm and dropping…"

"B.P. is 45 over 20…"

"O2 is at 60, and falling…"

When he was finally next to Gerry's parents, Chad looked into the room, and felt himself become sick. He could barely see Gerry on the bed. He was blocked by the mass of medical professionals trying to save his life. He heard someone call out clear, and then he listened to the tell-tale sound of a defibrillator shocking his friend. "Oh God," he heard Gerry's mother sob as they tried another shock from the defibrillator. Chad could hear Gerry's father whispering a prayer under his breath. Suddenly, almost as if someone had turned down the volume in the hallway and the noise from the room, all he and Gerry's parents could hear was a single flat line.

"No! Oh God, no! My boy," wailed Prudence as she buried herself into her husband. There was a flurry of sound as the doctors and nurses tried to revive Gerry. They could hear another sound of the defibrillator as well and then more flat lining. Suddenly, to Chad's horror, four words made their way into the hallway to him, but not Gerry's parents

"Call time of death."

Chad ran his fingers through his hair. He felt his heart begin to race, and he felt like he was having trouble catching his breath. He watched the doctor walk out of the room and walk up to Gerry's parents. "We did all we could, but –"

"Oh God," came the wail from Prudence.

"Doctor…but…that's my…," the Archduke tried to speak, but he was too devastated.

"I'm sorry," the doctor offered in condolence, not knowing anything else to say.

Chad moved toward the room, stopping at the doorway. He looked in and saw Gerry's lifeless body. It was first time he'd ever seen his friend dead since he never went to the funeral. He felt the tears begin to run down his face. As he tried to tell himself that what he was seeing wasn't real, that it was just a really sick instant replay, he felt the Spirit walk up next to him. He felt her take his hand again. "What was…? Why am I seeing this?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

"Acceptance," the Spirit said.

"Acceptance? Acceptance? What the hell am I expected to accept?" Chad shouted at her as he yanked his hand free if hers.

"That this happened. Was it horrible that it did? Yes. Was it horrible that it was him? It's always horrible when someone that young dies so unexpectedly. But it happens. No one wants it to, but it does. It's called life. But those left behind – those left living – have an obligation to the dead to accept it, and grieve, and to move on. You haven't done that."

"Because it isn't right that he's not here," Chad shouted at her, louder than before.

"You aren't wrong," the Spirit replied, her voice calm in the face of Chad's anger. "But the Chad I've seen tonight, the one who had all that sympathy, and all that thoughtfulness for kids he didn't even know, kids that even the adults around him never cast a thought about – he's hurt. The Chad that never gave a second thought to being a big brother to Jane because she didn't get to know that she had a big sister out there, but had all the potential to be the same for a scared little boy who a year later was going to need you to step into that role, he's still in there.

'But at the risk of sounding like a broken record, you've become angry. And resentful. And just plain mean. And all of that – every bit of it – started right here, in this room, tonight. When you heard that he died, you shut yourself off, and let a piece of you die with him. But unlike Gerry, you can still get that piece back. But you have to be willing to accept a painful, and ugly truth, that sometimes, people leave us, and it hurts, but in the end we –"

"Shut up," Chad shouted at her. "Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Don't you dare lecture me about acceptance, and truth, and pain. What about my pain? What about the fact that I had no one there to help me. The only person I wanted there to help me…to make sure I was okay…was the person who was gone. He left, and I was left here, by myself. So maybe I used the anger to get through it, but I had to. So you can piss off and take me back if all you're going to do is stand there and tell me I'm wrong," Chad ranted at the Spirit, who, despite a rage that would have filled any mortal person with tears, stood impassively. "Well?"

The Spirit raised her hand and before snapping her fingers said, "I'm sorry, Chad." She then snapped her fingers, and the whole room once again filled with light.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: I wanted to do this chapter like the previous ones, all in one. The problem is, with everything contained it, it was running long. So I decided to split it, and upload the first part now. The next part will be uploaded within the next few days but definitely no later than the end of the week.

Please enjoy…

* * *

 **Chapter 3 - The Ghost of Christmas Present**

Chad sprang up from his bed, sitting up and looking around. The room was silent save for his heavy breathing. He looked around, and felt relief when he didn't see the spirit. He let himself fall backwards, his head hitting his pillow and covered his eyes with his arm. "Stupid b–" he started to say when he heard his phone go off alerting him to an incoming text. "Ugh," he groaned as he turned to grab it. He opened the screen, and almost groaned again, this time in frustration as he saw that it was two o'clock on the dot. Against his better judgment, he opened the text and then became confused.

 _Chaddy, meet me in the common room...please_

 _\- Harriet_

Either I'm being played, or I'm in for some fun, he thought as he got out of bed and started making his way toward the common room on the first floor. As he got closer, he closed his eyes and started shaking his head. He could already hear the tell-tale sounds of Christmas music being played. Despite his disdain, he continued until he reached the common room. He slowly opened the door and walked into the room. Now he could hear the song – Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree – blaring. It was an affront to him as he took it in along with the decorations in the room; garland, candy cane centerpieces on the main coffee table, stockings hanging from the lit fireplace, and the massive tree with fake presents tucked into the corner of the room. The lights on the tree, as well as the lights strung along the walls of the room were lit and blinking festively. He only had one reason to not turn around and leave the holiday assault on his senses.

Harriet was near the tree and fireplace, dancing by herself to the music.

As he ventured further into the room, he saw that she was still wearing the outfit she had on from the party earlier in the night, although it looked like she'd changed from the ankle boots to calf-high high-heeled boots. Despite him standing there for a couple of minutes already, she didn't seem to notice him right away. He smiled and chuckled as he watched her dance happily, not a care to being seen, occasionally taking a sip from the cup in her hand. And as much as he could enjoy watching her move, he decided to let her know he was there. He cleared his throat, but she just kept on dancing. He cleared it louder, and that time, it seemed to grab her attention.

"Chaddy, hey," Harriet said excitedly, as she spun around and faced him. "Merry Christmas!"

" _Harriet_?" Chad asked, skeptical over what he was seeing.

Harriet smiled confidently. "Eggnog?" she said offering him her glass. Chad shook his head. "Care for a dance?" she asked delightedly, holding out her hand, as the song switched to Jingle Bell Rock.

"Dance?" he asked in confusion.

"Yeah. Please? I hate dancing alone," she added, her voice going sweet and giving him a cute little pout.

"You're not Harriet," Chad said slowly and flatly with a small shake of his head. "I'm guessing the second spirit?"

"Ghost of Christmas Present, at your service," the Spirit introduced herself while dropping the pout and giving him a bright gleaming smile. "What gave me away?"

Chad walked in a little further until he was on leaning the back of the main couch in the room. "Harriet's not this… _happy_ ," he told her. "Sure, she's in good moods and all that, but never _this_ happy. And she's not this nice to me – usually she throws in a lot of sass when talking to me. It's kind of fun actually," he grinned. "Plus Harriet says _Happy_ Christmas, not Merry Christmas."

"Brits," the Spirit joked. "Or wherever that accent comes from. After all, nice little fun fact, despite Mean Old Hook being from England, dear Harriet is only half British."

"Really?" Chad asked, genuinely interested.

The Spirit nodded enthusiastically. "For a guy reputed to be so good with women, you really should learn to pay more attention when they open up," she offered to him.

Chad smiled, relieved for the moment. "Not that I'm complaining, but there a reason you picked her?"

"Thought it'd make things go more smoothly. Big Sis says you're all fiery, so I figured this form might help keep you, _contained_ ," the Spirit answered him. "After all, you wouldn't get mad at your –"

"You're related to each other?" Chad interrupted her. She nodded.

"Yup, and she's the serious one. Me, I get to have a little more fun since I'll be showing you what's going on when everyone wakes up to a glorious Christmas mourn," the Spirit beamed.

Chad leaned into the couch's back a little more. "You said she called me fiery. You had time to talk? In the what, thirty seconds between her dropping me off back at my bed and you texting me?"

The Spirit sat down on the couch, and draped her feet along it so she was sitting sideways and able to look up at him. "Time passes differently for us than it does for you. I mean, be honest, if felt like you were with her for way longer than an hour." She reached up, cradling his face. "By the by, while I will be showing you all the festive stuff going on today, I can't promise that you might not see something that doesn't aggravate you."

"Aggravate?"

"My siblings and I are here for a reason. I get the fun spectacle, but don't get me wrong, you have issues with Christmas – so not cool B-T-W. But I'm digressing," she said as she stood from the couch, straightened her jacket, and walked around to stand beside him. This time he offered his arm, which she took happily. "Such a gentleman," she praised as she cuddled close and laid her head on his shoulder. "Come on, Chaddy," she said with a snap of her fingers. Suddenly, a swirling mix of bright white light and billowing gray clouds enveloped them, before dissipating, leaving the room dark, as well as the lights, tree, and fireplace now respectively off and extinguished without the presence of the spirit.

* * *

When the smoke and light disappeared, from Chad's perspective, they were standing in front a quaint looking two-story house. The outside was painted in a slightly off white with pastel purple trim. The porch railing had red poinsettias running their length as well as on the ends of the steps leading to the porch. In the summer and spring Chad new that the poinsettias on the railing would be replaced with flower planters that held big, bright blossoming flowers in red, yellows, white, and anything else that looked cheerful. He smiled as he remembered all the times he called the house a giant Easter egg.

"Know where we are?" The Spirit asked him.

Chad nodded. "Fairy Godmother's house," he told her with a fond smile. "How long has it been since you visited?"

"A while. Then again, with Jane and me actually staying at school, it's not totally necessary."

"Hmm," the Spirit sounded.

"What?"

"Nothing," she shrugged taking his hand. "Come on, we're not here to stare at the paint job."

She walked them up the stairs and then through the door. Once inside Chad got a glimpse of what a Fairy Godmother Christmas looked like now. There was wreath on the inside of the door that matched the one he saw on the outside on his way in. The large living room was on his right. He wandered into it, looking at the garland that was strung along the large open entryway to it. As he looked around, he saw on the coffee table that there was a centerpiece of a Christmas Tree surrounded by reindeer and an elf standing on one of them and putting the star on top. In fact, the end tables each had their own figurines, along with the fireplace mantle which had a complete Christmas village. That woman had an addiction to porcelain, he thought.

Hanging from the mantle were five stockings, one for Fairy Godmother herself, Jane, Mal, Harriet, and, to his surprise, Dagon. He chuckled when he saw that while the other four were in red with silver embroidered snowflakes, and their names in red stitching in the white fur trim, Dagon's was black with the aforementioned silver snowflakes and black stitching on the trim.

"The stocking?" the Spirit asked with a grin. Chad nodded. "I don't see black stockings often, but I should've expected it in his case," she added as she took a big whiff of the air. "God, I love that smell," she said.

Chad paid some attention to the air and realized what she was smelling – the big 8-foot tree in the corner. He remembered Jane mentioning that he'd chopped it down, so the smell of fresh pine was lingering strongly in the air. But as he sniffed, he noticed something else. He took another deep breath, collecting the smell in his nostrils, and closed his eyes, a maudlin smile curving his lips.

"You smell them too?" the Spirit asked.

Chad nodded happily. "Her chocolate chip Christmas cookies are awesome," he praised. He looked over to her. "With your sister, we couldn't touch anything. Do the same rules apply here?" he asked, hoping for an answer in the affirmative.

"Yeah," the Spirit said. "Sorry, no cookies today," she finished regretfully. Damn it, Chad thought regretfully.

"Where is everybody?" Chad asked as he surveyed the empty room.

The spirit reached into one of the coat's pockets and pulled out a pocket watch. She opened it and glanced at the time. "Probably out," she mused as she showed him the watch's face – 7:45 pm. "It's evening," she clarified. "Coincidentally, I'm bending the rules just slightly for you. What we're gonna see right now, it's actually Christmas Eve. Normally I stick with just Christmas Day, but this is important for you."

Before Chad could respond, the front door opened and Mal, Jane, and Harriet came in, followed by Dagon. The girls were clamoring to get their jackets off, Chad noticing that they looked a little moist. They were dressed for the weather, but try as he might, he found himself paying more attention to the only blonde in the group. "You've got it bad, don't you?" the Spirit asked him.

"What?"

"Harriet. You've got it bad for her don't you?" she asked again, hip bumping him with a chuckle.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he deflected.

The Spirit scoffed. "Fine, don't answer. But well, I didn't pick this form for no reason. And it's no coincidence we're here. For years, you've been humbugging your way through Christmas, totally fine with everyone knowing you hate it. And even if they won't admit it, behind their attempts to bring you back from the dark side, everyone around you has more or less accepted your behavior. They try, but you don't get the full attempts anymore. As far as their concerned, you're this close to being a totally lost cause. But now you have a pair of wrenches in that system. Two brand new anomalies you didn't have."

"Dagon and Harriet?"

The Spirit nodded. She then took his hand and smiled softly. "Come on." She led him to just off entrance way where they could survey the whole room. Next to them, they saw the girls make their way into the room, while Dagon turned toward the foyer.

"So how did the girls enjoy the snow?" they heard Fairy Godmother ask. Chad leaned over and saw her standing next to Dagon, a tray with five mugs in her hands. "Hot chocolate, girls?"

"They had a good time," Dagon answered as he reached for one of the mugs. Fairy Godmother stopped him and pointed out a specific mug, which he took.

"Until Dad started hitting us in the back of the head with snowballs," Jane said as she, Mal, and Harriet came up for their own mugs before heading back towards the couch and chairs.

Fairy Godmother looked at him askance while grabbing her mug and moving to set the tray down inside the living room table on the opposite side of the entrance way. "Why did you hit the three of them in the back of the head?"

"I didn't hit the three of them," Dagon answered. Fairy Godmother cocked her eyebrow at him. "I didn't. I only hit Jane and Harriet in the back of the head," he revealed with a wicked grin before taking a sip of his hot chocolate. "What? They were ganging up on Mal, so I evened the odds."

"And I thank you for that," Mal gloated from the couch.

"You want to know the funny part, I assumed my spawn would gang up on the pirate," Dagon said between sips. He smacked his lips after his latest drink. "I'm guessing you added a little something to mine?"

Fairy Godmother held a finger to her lips.

"Even if we did, she just would've called Chad to come to her rescue," Jane shouted. She then let out a scream as one of the throw pillows came rushing at her head.

"So you do like him," Mal said as she laughed at the mock indignant look Jane shot her best friend.

"I do not like Chad," she defended. "I tolerate him."

"Please, you do more than tolerate him," Jane argued, adding a faux British accent to the words tolerate him. "Don't forget, we're roommates, I've heard you mention his name in your sleep."

Harriet threw another pillow at Jane, and wished she'd had a third to send Mal's way as she heard the elder sister laughing.

"Oh, I can't wait to tell Evie next time we video chat," Mal said between giggles.

"She dreams about me?" Chad asked, a surprised, yet happy, smile on his face.

"I'm sure I was dreaming about smacking him around," Harriet tried to defend herself. And the moment's gone, he thought. "Besides, Chad probably just flirts with me to see what slumming it is like."

"Stop right there," Dagon interrupted the blonde pirate. "I doubt any boy, Chad Charming especially, the way I've seen him look at you, would ever call dating you, _slumming it_."

"He's not wrong," Chad agreed. "She doesn't really think I consider her the same thing as slumming it, does she?" Chad asked the Spirit. The Spirit shrugged her shoulders. "You look like her, but you don't know what's going on in her head?"

"That's not how this works, _Chaddy_ ," she clarified. "I pick the form that best helps me do my job. Something you'll be amenable to. And you, Sweet Prince, have taken a notice of dear Harriet. You've been looking. And you like what you see."

"Harriet's pretty. Any guy would say that," he commented.

The Spirit nodded in agreement. "Name the last girl you went on a date with," she demanded of him. Chad smiled and was about to speak when the Spirit held up a finger. "After Harriet got here." Chad remained quiet, thinking. There has to be at least one, he told himself. "How's that old song go? Chad and Harriet sitting in tree, K-I-S-S-I…"

"Okay, okay, so maybe I might have a small, I repeat, small crush on her."

"There you go, admitting things is nice isn't it. Which makes your attitude a little more perplexing. Harriet likes Christmas. I would've thought you'd at least make an attempt to enjoy it for her. You know, to try and connect."

Chad chewed the inside of his cheek. Sure, under normal circumstances, he'd be trying something like that. Lord knows how many boring and useless things he'd forced himself to endure in the name of getting a girl. But somehow, that seemed beneath him where Harriet was concerned. It also seemed like something she'd see right through.

"I'm nicer to her than anyone else when they bring up Christmas. Does that count?"

Before the Spirit could respond, Fairy Godmother spoke up.

"Okay girls, since Harriet has to go get ready for Belle to get her later, Dagon and I thought it would be okay if you each opened a present to celebrate. Then you two can open the rest tomorrow morning," she finished to Jane and Mal.

"That, plus our little break through, I think we can move on now," the Spirit decided. She raised her hand to snap her fingers when Chad grabbed to her hand to stop her. She looked at him confused.

"Can't we at least see what they got?"

The Spirit looked at him, and smiled warmly. "Sure. But once they do, we're moving to our next stop."

Chad smiled and turned toward the family. The two of them moved to a more accommodating viewpoint as each girl was handed a present. They all tore into wrapping paper, ripping it apart and discarding it to get at the gift within.

"What the…?" Mal gasped as she opened the black felt lined case. Inside, cradled in white cushioning, was…, "Your wand?" she asked as she looked over at Fairy Godmother.

"A replica for now, but eventually yes," Fairy Godmother told her softly. "What happened the day of the coronation was very telling. The way the wand seemed to allow you to not only grab it, but stopped trying to resist told me that it just might have chosen its future wielder."

"But what about Jane?" Mal asked, still not believing what she was she hearing.

"I've accepted that I'm going stay the Fairy Goddaughter," Jane told her sister, though a small hint of lament was in her voice. "But at least it's staying in the family…kind of," she added.

"Oh, stop acting like you're not pretty well covered in the magic department, Janey," Dagon told his youngest. "Besides, if you open up that book, you'll see that you weren't forgotten."

Jane looked down at the aforementioned book she held. It was the same size as the spell book that Mal had when she first arrived, except that this one was covered in smooth black leather. She opened it up, and began flipping through the pages. She felt her mouth slightly drop open at the realization of what she was holding.

"A spell book?"

"Not just any spell book Baby Bird, your Old Man's spell book," Dagon informed her. She looked at it astonished, and then looked up at her mother.

"My spell book has to go to Mal since it's the spell book of the Fairy Godmother," her mother began, "But your father and I felt that you should have your own as well."

"But that means that you'd have to teach me to use it."

"Your mother will be primarily training Mal to one day take over for her, but she'll show you some stuff. But, since I'm also Fairy Godmother trained, I can handle teaching you to use your magic," Dagon said.

"Thank you," Jane said, her eyes watering a little bit.

"Same here," Mal added, a little calmer, but still showing that she was processing the enormity of what she was truly being given.

"So those two are going to be pretty powerful aren't they?" Chad asked the Spirit.

"They're the daughters of the two most powerful fairies on Earth, not to mention that their father is one of the most powerful sorcerers in the world. There's no telling just how powerful they could end up," the Spirit said with a fair amount reverence in her voice.

"So what about you, Harriet, you gonna open that?" Dagon said.

"The label said it was from my father," she replied.

"I might have made a trip to Isle to pick up something he wanted to give you," he told her.

Harriet looked down at the small box in her hand – a ring box. She pulled it open and saw a small, antique silver ring with a bright green emerald in the setting. Despite the modest look of it, she could tell that it was well taken care of, and that great care had to have been taken to make sure it wasn't soiled by the Isle.

"Where on the island would he have found something like this?" she asked perplexed.

"He didn't find it. He already had it. It was your mother's. Been in her family for years; passed down from mother to daughter type thing. He thought it was time it made its way to you," Dagon explained.

Everyone watched as Harriet teared up at the explanation and further staring at the ring in her hand. Jane scooted over from her spot on the couch and sat directly next to her friend. She looked into the box, and marveled at the way the emerald seemed to catch the light in the room and give off a rainbow colored glare. "It's beautiful," she said.

Harriet nodded.

"You gonna put it on?"

Harriet took a deep breath and pulled the ring from the box. She tried it on her right ring finger, and found herself surprised when it fit perfectly. As she looked at the ring on her hand, she felt her eyes water freshly, this time followed by a tear from each eye that fell down her cheeks. Mal threw a tissue box that was on the coffee table to Jane, who handed one to Harriet. She wiped her eyes, and finally felt Jane put an arm around her shoulder.

"You don't know this," the Spirit started.

"Harriet's mother died when she was five," he finished for her. The Spirit just looked at him. "Harriet mentioned it once."

"So you do pay attention. But that's not what I was going to say. I was going to say, you're not the only one who lost someone around Christmas." Chad's head snapped toward the Spirit and looked at her in complete shock. "Yeah. Big Sis let me know; said it was two weeks before."

"And she still celebrates?"

"Where do you think she got her love of Christmas from? The same kind of loss you had she went through herself – maybe a little worse in comparison, actually – but she didn't let it ruin it for her. Instead, she asked what her mother would do, and knew that it would be for her still find a reason to be happy around this time of year. Despite being on that island. Despite being surrounded by people who were telling her it was a waste of time. She chose to honor the person she lost by remembering that even though their gone, it doesn't mean that we have to let that part of ourselves go with them."

Chad looked at Spirit. He was trying to come up with a retort, an insult, but he couldn't. Nothing he came up with seemed enough to combat what he'd just learned about the teenage pirate he called a friend. And any insult he thought of, seemed more of an insult to Harriet than to the holiday, even though she wasn't even his target.

"So we saw the gift, now we do need to move on," the Spirit said as she took his hand and snapped her fingers.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 4 – The Ghost of Christmas Present, Part 2**

When Chad and the Spirit reappeared Chad found himself once again standing in the snow. He nodded in self-deprecation for a second before addressing the Spirit. "Tremaine Hill…again?"

"Hey, I would have loved to take you somewhere else, but this hill seems to hold some serious Christmas sway with you," she defended herself. "Just look," she pointed out as she nodded toward the three people walking toward them.

"Mom, Dad, and…Dizzy?"

He saw the Spirit cock her head in agreement. Chad watched as his parents came up the hill, his father carrying a pair of new looking plastic sleds, one blue and the other red, with a rope over his shoulder, and his mother leading Dizzy.

"Chad's gonna feel okay later, right?" Dizzy asked Cinderella as they made it to the top of the hill.

"I'm sure he'll be fine, Sweetheart," Cinderella told her. She looked next to her to her husband, who simply gave her a look of doubt.

"Don't tell me I get sick on Christmas?" Chad asked the Spirit, actually offended at the thought.

"Yeah, you catch a case of a pouty little baby-itis," she answered him cheerfully. He looked at her insulted. "Don't give me that look, you're parents are here taking Dizzy sledding because someone threw a Christmas-sized hissy fit and didn't want to come out of his room instead of teaching her himself like she had her heart set on."

"Why would she care if I teach her to sled?"

"Because Jane told her stories of you teaching her, so Dizzy assumed you'd be teaching her, too," the Spirit revealed to him.

The sound of excited screaming caught their attention before Chad could say anything. He and the Spirit turned to see his parents and Dizzy speeding down the hill. His mother was on the blue sled, by herself, while his father and Dizzy were on the blue one. His mother was a just a head farther than his father and Dizzy, which surprised him.

"Mom's gonna wipe out," he muttered.

"Now how do you…," the Spirit began before watching as Cinderella's sled started going from side to side before falling out from under her. She ended up tumbling on the snow for a few feet before coming to a dragging stop, her sled about ten feet away from her. "Nice call."

"She was pulling up on the nose too much," Chad nodded. Seconds later, Charming and Dizzy made it closer to the bottom of the hill only to wipe out less spectacularly. Charming managed to keep himself from hitting the ground too hard, showing his experience at the activity. Dizzy, however, once she fell off the sled, crashed a little more like her aunt, though she tumbled a little longer. Charming and Cinderella were already making their way toward her. They felt a little relieved as they could hear her laughing, but wanted to make sure that she was completely okay. They helped her up, and became concerned when she nearly fell over once she was on her feet.

"Are you okay, Sweetie?" Cinderella asked her.

Dizzy nodded. "Yeah, just lost my balance for a second. I guess I got up too fast," she said as she took a few deep breaths. "I'm not used to snow yet."

"Well, a few more runs might help that," Charming told her. Dizzy practically lit up and ran to grab the sled. Charming and Cinderella both laughed at her enthusiasm, and Cinderella felt bad that Chad was missing this.

"Do you think Chad felt well enough to open the present I got him?" she asked as they once again made it near the top of the hill. "Did he like it?"

The two royals felt relieved that Dizzy was in front of them and hadn't turned around while asking the question, or waiting for the answer. They shared a sad look with each other and each motioned that one of them needed to answer her.

"I checked on him before we left," Cinderella started, glad that she wasn't lying at that point. But then, "And he told me that he loved it."

"Awesome," she said while starting to try and skip of the last few feet to the top.

"What did she get me?" Chad asked.

"Don't know. Neither do you actually," she answered quickly. Chad looked at her in disbelief. "You couldn't be bothered to open it. Just tossed into your closet, not even caring at the sound it made when it hit the floor."

"Even _I'm_ not that bad," he retorted.

"Apparently you are," the Spirit said with a slight touch of venom in her voice. Chad could also see that she had a little more fire in her eyes than she'd had all night. "She's twelve years old. She doesn't have a lot Christmases left where she can look at them with the eyes of kid. And because of that kid-like innocence right now, things matter to her. Finding out that the cousin that she's starting to idolize just blew off her present, well, she's gonna feel like you blew _her_ off. And at any age, but especially this one, that hurts. That's gonna break her little heart to the point that well…"

"She'd end up like me, wouldn't she?" Chad asked, for once feeling the weight of things.

"Maybe worse. What happened to you; that was unfortunate. But you couldn't control that tragedy, and it's possible to come back from that. Being made to feel like you're an afterthought, that you don't matter to someone – that's not something that you can come back from as easily."

Chad looked at Dizzy getting situated on the sled, this time with his mother. She was smiling, her cheeks red from the cold, but you could definitely tell she was glowing from how happy she was. "How long will Dizzy be with us?" he asked, the melancholy in his voice.

"That's a question better answered by my big brother," the Spirit told him.

"You can't see into the future?"

"I can see a little bit. But Dizzy's future is uncertain right now. But what happens now is important – much more than you know," she told him gently, but the warning was clear. "We've gleaned all we can from here. Come on, there's a few more things you need to see before my times up. Want to see something cool?" the Spirit asked him as she took his arm.

"Do I really get a choice this time?" he asked suspiciously.

"This time, yes," the Spirit answered him.

"And if I say no?"

"A few parting words and we're done."

"Will there be any more lectures after tearing me down?" The Spirit shook her head. Chad sighed reluctantly, but took the Spirit's hand. "Then let's go."

"Sweet," the Spirit celebrated as she raised her hand. "This really is observe and…soak in," she told him just before she snapped her fingers.

The next thing he knew he was standing in a house that looked run down. There were shades of dark purple and blacks used for the fabric on the furniture and drapes. He was surprised to see religious iconography scattered throughout as well. On a small table, that was tucked near the back of the room, was a small thin looking tree that didn't have any lights, but a small, handmade looking star on the top.

"We're still on the Isle?" The Spirit nodded and motioned toward a room just off the one they were in. He walked into it and saw an older man sitting at a small table. He looked rail thin, had gray-white hair, tight looking skin that looked like it was being pulled severely back. His eyes were dark and sunken, making them look more intense.

"Welcome to the home of Judge Claude Frollo," the Spirit informed him.

From the next room walked in a girl around his age. She was a pretty, petite brunette with a sharp angular face, short hair that came down to her chin in a wavy bob. She was carrying a tray that had a sliced roast that looked barely big enough to feed the two of them. She set it down in the center of the table next to what looked like scraps of barely edible sides. Despite the sight of the sides, the roast smelled quite delicious to Chad.

The girl sat down and clasped her hands on the table in front of her. Frollo looked over the meal, took a deep breath, smelling the food, and nodded his head. They bowed their heads and he said grace. They crossed themselves when he was done and began to put food on their plates.

"Merry Christmas, father," the girl said.

"And to you, Claudine," he said back.

Chad looked at the Spirit in shock. " _Father_? He has a kid?"

"Oh yeah," the Spirit told him. "Claudine's quite the…good child. Not surprisingly, the Judge is rather strict," she added as she started to teleport them out of there.

The next place Chad found himself in was an equally run down house, and that was just barely in his opinion. This place was a little more rustic looking however with some kind of fur for rugs, old hunting rifles, a few axes of various sizes, and a what looked like discarded antlers and animal heads. The table and chairs looked like a cross between handmade and what was found from the barges. All of them, though, had the same kinds of fur draped on them.

"Oh this place just screams Gaston," Chad uttered.

"What gave it away? The early hunter gatherer decorating motif?" the Spirit joked with a small chuckle. Chad nudged her shoulder, but joined in the laugh.

"Don't tell me he's got a daughter, too?"

"Boys. Three of them to exact," the Spirit told him with a nod toward the next room.

Chad moved into it and saw Gaston sitting on a chair that was just slightly larger than normal. He had a cup of something in his hand, though knowing him, Chad doubted it was something as innocuous as eggnog. Looking past the chair, onto the couch and another, normal sized chair, were three boys. A set of twins sitting on opposite sides of the couch, and a third brother who had practically draped himself on the chair. They all looked about the same age so he couldn't tell who was older, the twins or the single brother. All four of them were watching an old looking TV. The reception wasn't crystal clear, but you could make out what was on the screen.

"Christmas movies?" he observed.

"The Isle has basically one channel. Usually it shows programs designed to spread the message about being good and true – and the news. Christmas is one of the few times it shows something other than all that. So they sit together, a real rarity for them, and watch Christmas movies on Christmas day."

There was chuckling from the four of them. A reaction to the movie. Chad couldn't make out what was playing due to coming in mid-scene, but he assumed it was a comedy instead of the usual sappy Santa cheerfest. He felt the Spirit take his arm and heard her snap her fingers.

"Where are we now?" he asked as he found himself inside a home that looked a little better than the last two he'd just been in. The place was moderately clean, and the furniture looked…well, like it had once been in a home in Auradon before being thrown out, probably for a newer set. But unlike Judge Frollo's or Gaston's homes, the furniture looked as if someone had tried to make it look presentable. The couches and chairs were devoid of the tiny rips and tears, and upon closer inspection he could see stitch marks where someone had mended such eyesores. There was slight fraying, but nothing too noticeable. Even the tables had the look of being wiped down of dust and there were even cloth table covers on the end tables and the coffee table. They didn't match each other, but the separate colors worked together and actually tied together the furniture. All in all, if he was still on the Isle, then he was in a home that looked as though those who lived here actually took some pride in the appearance of it.

"I think I'll let that be a surprise," the Spirit smiled with a sly raising of her eyebrow.

Chad was about to at least ask for a hint when the front door opened and in walked a red headed woman followed by a teenager with honey colored hair. The woman was taking off a worn out coat and an even more worn out scarf. The teen was taking off his coat, which looked a little newer compared to whom Chad guessed was his mother.

"Why do we have to go over there every year?" the boy asked.

"Because they're family. And it's Christmas," the woman answered him as she crashed onto her couch, kicked off her high heeled boots, and unceremoniously put her feet on the coffee table. The boy looked at her questioningly as he sat on one of the chairs. He pointed at her feet. "I've earned it after listening to my mother criticize my life choices for three hours," she responded.

"That's my point. They can barely stand us, and Granny Tremaine does nothing but say I need to be less lazy and more evil, like her."

"Tony, how many times have I told you, your grandmother isn't evil. She's just mean, and cranky, and an old cat lady," she told him, laughing at the end. Even her son started laughing. Chad even let out a chuckle.

" _Tremaine_?" the Spirit asked sarcastically.

"Yes, thank you for pretending like you didn't know you brought me Aunt's Anastasia's house," Chad deadpanned. "I'm surprised you didn't drop us in with all of them."

"Chaddy, I'm supposed to show you how people _celebrate_ Christmas. Your other relatives – well they're just ghastly. Anastasia is the only who tries to keep some semblance of the holiday."

"You're serious?" he asked, unconvinced. "From what I've heard, she's completely mental and Anthony over there, he's a freaking terror."

"But at least now your aunt and grandmother will leave us alone for a little bit," Anastasia started saying as she opened the drawer on the end table next to her and pulled out a picture. She looked at it, and Anthony, Chad, and the Spirit watched her eyes start watering.

"You miss her?" Anthony gently asked his mother. Anastasia nodded. Chad walked over and peered over his step-aunt's shoulder. She was holding a picture of herself, Anthony, and Dizzy. It was a recent picture since Dizzy didn't look much different than she did now.

"Your aunt never even asked how she was doing," Anastasia reflected. "Her own daughter."

"Dizzy isn't Aunt Anastasia's?" Chad asked the Spirit. She shook her head. When Dizzy was brought over, she wasn't just put into a royal limo and hauled over like the original VKs. His parents went with the limo and picked her up. He wasn't there, but he remembered his mother saying that Anastasia was the one who handed Dizzy over. He just assumed that meant she was Dizzy's mother.

"She's Drizella's. I'm surprised you didn't know that. Your mother did tell you."

"But then…?" he pointed to the picture. "I…I didn't pay attention when she probably told me," her admitted, feeling guilty for not knowing.

"Drizella isn't exactly mother material. In fact, Dizzy was actually an accident for Drizella. And Drizella never let her forget it. Told her every day. When Dizzy was five, she even told her life would've been better if she'd never been born. Dizzy cried herself to sleep. That was the last straw for Anastasia. She brought Dizzy here almost immediately and raised her like her own daughter. And surprisingly, unlike with Anthony, she tried to keep Dizzy a good kid to make up for what she'd already been through. Gotta say – in my own humble opinion – she succeeded," the Spirit said as she walked over next to Chad behind Anastasia. He watched as she put her hands on Anastasia's shoulders and leaned down until she was next to his aunt's ear. "She's safe. She's happy," Chad heard the Spirit whisper to his aunt before giving her a soft, reassuring kiss on the top of her head.

He knew the rules said they couldn't be seen or heard. But he could swear that his aunt heard the Spirit as Anastasia seemed to smile through the held back tears. "I thought they couldn't hear us," he said, the statement almost sounding like a question.

"They can't. But I'm not speaking to her. I'm speaking to her soul," the Spirit explained. "It's complicated and a little above your understanding," she said to him. She stood before Chad and grabbed both of his hands. "Come on," she said softly before they were overtaken by her normal swirl of light and smoke.

When the massive swirl dissipated, Chad saw that they were standing on a random street. This time the streets were clean. The street lights were there and unbroken. The store fronts were well kept – the buildings were all painted the same color and devoid of graffiti. After seeing the home he'd just been in, as well as the pictures of the Isle he had as reference, he knew he was back in Auradon.

"Your sister at least took me back to my dorm room," he smiled.

"I took a little more time than I should've and I'm cutting it close, but I gave you the important bits. Unfortunately, I can't drop you at school. I hoped you learned something from all this, like Christmas is not all bad. And that tragedy doesn't need to define you. Most importantly though, I need to impart something, two somethings actually. Ignorance and want. Both of them are horrible, both of them lead to ruin. Not just this time of year – but all year. Watch out for both, but most of all the former."

A bird's cry broke the tension, but only slightly. Chad looked around for the source of the sound, but the Spirit just pulled her pocket watch from her coat pocket. She opened it and smiled.

"Definitely cutting it close, but still made the mark," she smiled as she closed the watch as placed it back in her coat.

"The mark?"

"My time is up Chaddy," she told him. She waved him close with her hand and he leaned in. He was surprised to find himself suddenly wrapped in a hug that felt warmer than any other he'd felt in a while. He hugged her back when he felt her breath by his ear. "Good luck going forward. Considering my big brother's up next…you'll need it."

Without warning he felt her disappear from his arms and he found himself standing alone on the street. Suddenly, the sound of another bird cry echoed.


	6. Chapter 6

Authors Note: Personally, I think this was my favorite chapter to write for this story. I think it brings the consequences full circle for Chad, and I hope your all agree. And while I know Dizzy's age is never fully said, I worked off the premise that she was around twelve for the purposes of this story. That being said, I picked the years mentioned later in the chapter based off of the year that this story started. So the Christmas you're reading about is 2018. That will make sense as you read on.

Please enjoy...

* * *

 **Chapter 5 - The Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come**

Chad turned and looked around. He was still alone as far as he could tell. The store fronts continued to look empty, and no one was walking around, or even appeared to be _in_ the shops. "Hello?" he called out, his voice sounding both hollow against the stillness, and like he should be hearing an echo. There was no reply to his call however. The quiet was beginning to unnerve him.

 _Caw_!

Chad looked around, up and down the street, in the spaces between the store fronts. As he was turning, a black figure zipped passed him, just visible enough to be seen out of the corner of his vision. He swatted at it while ducking. He turned in the direction it went and spotted a raven perched on one of the store fronts awnings. It squawked before flying off it, down toward him before turning to fly around a light post. As it further descended he watched as it began to turn into a man until that man was standing under the street light, looking down at the grown, like he was unconcerned with being seen or not. He was dressed in a black overcoat that came down below his knees, and a black suit. The only parts of him not covered in black were his face and neck due to his shirt not being buttoned all the way. In fact, if it wasn't for his head and neck, he'd look like some dark silhouette that spelled only doom and terror for those in its presence.

"Of course," Chad grumbled as he looked upon the third spirit standing before him as he raised his head and revealed that he had taken the form of Dagon. "Third Spirit?"

The Spirit began to walk toward him, not speaking, and even though he was facing him, Chad wasn't even sure the Spirit was actually looking at him. "So how are we…," he began, stopping as the Spirit walked past him without stopping. "I'm guessing you're the douchey, silent type?" Chad joked as he turned where the Spirit was walking. The Spirit had already stopped and was glaring at Chad. "Sorry," he gulped as he realized that he probably just angered him.

The Spirit gave a small cocking of his head and then stood waiting. Chad gave a similar motion and then looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "Does that mean follow you? Keep up? Words help."

The Spirit's express to Chad being glib was a void stare. He simply clasped his hands behind his back, and, to Chad's disbelief, wisps of fog began to flow from under the Spirit's coat. As the seconds passed, the fog began to billow and thicken, until soon, it looked as though smoke from an unseen fire was emanating from him. Chad felt a small shiver of fear run through him as the fog, now thick enough that he couldn't see through it, even down to the street below it, began moving in his direction. It started slowly surrounding him, starting at his feet, and then climbing until it was waist high and he started swatting at it. It dispersed only to be reinforced from more gathering from below.

"What the…? What are you doing?" Chad yelled to him as the fog was now at his chest. He was fearful because he couldn't see his own body anymore. As he looked toward the Spirit, waiting for an answer, the Spirit just stood there impassive. "Help!" Chad shouted as the fog finally enveloped him. All there was in front of him was a wall of thick, impenetrable fog. He raised his hand, but he couldn't see it in front of his own face. Am I going to die, he thought as he took a deep breath, fearful of what would happen when the fog was breathed in.

* * *

After what seemed like slow tortuous seconds that stretched far longer than he would've liked, Chad saw the fog dissipating. The view in front of him went from thick, dark soupy gray, to spotty clouds, until finally, it was gone. He looked around while taking the biggest, deepest breath he could. "Oh God," he freaked as he realized that the Spirit was standing directing next to him, hands behind his back, stoic as ever. "What the hell was that? Your _sisters_ were more…accommodating with that. Well…?" he asked when he got no response. "You really aren't going to talk aren't you? So how are we supposed to communicate?"

The Spirit directed Chad's attention to in front of them with his hand. Chad, indignant, and with a matching "humph", turned to where the Spirit indicated. It was a rundown building, much like everything else around it, with dirty, peeling paint, rotting wood, and windows sealed off with dark drapes. There was a sign with large hand-painted letters reading: Dr. Facilier's One Stop Shop.

"We're back on the Isle? What is it with you all and this place?" The Spirit pointed in the shops direction, this time more forcefully, and cocked his head. "Fine," Chad relented and began walking. He could feel the Spirit moving with him, though he certainly couldn't hear him which he found odd since Chad could hear his own footsteps crunching along the ground. He was at least happy that the same rule about just walking through things applied as he entered the shop without having to use the door.

He was surprised by the store, and he was using that term loosely. Most of the items looked well-worn and that was him being gentle. The clothes were tattered, but looked like an attempt to mend or alter them had been made. The various other items – the appliances, knick knacks, shoes, and jewelry – looked to be in various stages of disrepair and reassembly, almost like if something was fixed as much as it could be rather than let anything go to waste. The Isle of the leftovers, he heard Mal once say, and now it made sense why.

The Spirit led Chad past what he supposed to could be called the front showroom, and into the back where a small group of four; three men and one woman, were congregating. He recognized one the men right away. He was a little older than he'd just seen, maybe mid-twenties Chad estimated, but slightly better looking clothing, along with the honey colored hair were a dead giveaway – Anthony. Next to them was a man with dark hair, and a wild, almost crazed look in his eyes. He was tall, maybe about Chad's own height, with pale skin, and lean looking body that belied just how strong he was. He'd never met the man, at least not while he was younger, but he recognized the face from the picture she'd taken on her trip back to the Isle for her stuff to finalize her move. Chad was looking at Harriet's brother, Harry. The woman didn't look familiar at all, but he had to admit, she wasn't half bad looking. Dark, slightly curly hair, with a cream complexion and soft grey eyes. She was slender, but not so thin to look sickly despite the circumstances of the Isle.

But the third man needed no real introduction to Chad. Thin, but no longer rail thin like he'd been in the past. He'd put on a few pounds, but they made him look more menacing, as did the way too worn top hat that cast a shadow over his large sunken eyes. He was glaring at the three before him from his chair, his hand on a simple cane made from wood with a metal ball at the end.

"So what do you three want?" he asked, his gravelly voice more pronounced.

"We've come to chat about business, Doc," Harry answered, a crooked smile to match the slight scar on his chin that ran along his jaw.

"Business? On Christmas?"

"We've… _procured_ items to sell," Anthony said, almost gloating.

"Procured? You're not uselessly bad kids anymore, man up and say you stole them," Facilier groaned, growing impatient.

"Stole? Can you really steal from a dead man?" the woman asked.

"Ah, Ginny, no one splits hairs like you," Facilier smiled.

"Well, maybe my mother," Ginny said with pride.

"Ginny?" Chad asked. He began racking his brain for any memories about the name Ginny that the other VKs might have mentioned. Then, a light bulb went off. "Ginny _Goethel_?"

"So, what have you got?" Facilier asked them, his interest piqued. "And it better not be a waste of my time.

Harry stepped up first, pushing his way past Anthony who looked at him like he was going to say something. A fast, hard glare from Harry stopped him cold. "Step back pretty boy, biggest item, so I get to go first," Harry mocked. He tossed a used looking wool bag on top of the Shadow Man's desk. Facilier dug through the bag and pulled out a set of clothes. The light blue garments looked far nicer than anything seen on the Isle in a long time. Even now, with some fraying beginning to set in, they still looked more than presentable enough to probably be worn in some Auradon ball.

"Tattered rags," Facilier grumbled.

"Tattered?" Harry asked, angrily insulted. "Those are quality right there. Worth more than anything you've got for sale right now."

"I'll give you…ten coins," the Shadow Man told him.

"Twenty," Harry negotiated.

"Fifteen, or you can just start wearing them yourself."

Harry thought about it for a second, and then nodded. Facilier unlocked a box he'd brought with him when showed for this meet, and counted out fifteen rusted pieces of metal that passed for currency on the Isle. He slammed them down and slid them toward the pirate. "And you?" he turned toward Anthony.

Anthony smiled and reached into his coat pocket. He pulled out a gold antique pocket watch inscribed with an eagle on the top face. It was still in mint condition by the look of it, the high shine coming off it indicating just how much the original owner cared for the artifact. "No rags, just something nice and shiny," Anthony bragged. Chad looked at the watch and thought it looked familiar. He tossed the watch to Facilier, who began inspecting it. He opened it, smiling when he saw that it still ran. "I'm surprised you're not keeping this for yourself," he told Anastasia's son.

"Not worth it if I have to hide it from Mom," he answered. "She'd want to keep the memento."

"Twenty-five coins."

"Forty," Anthony responded.

"Thirty, and that's as far as I go."

"Thirty…and I get to pick something from the shop – without paying for it."

Facilier rubbed his chin as he looked at Anthony, considering the offer. Without speaking, he counted out the coins and tossed them toward Anthony. "Deal."

"And what about you, my dear?" Facilier questioned Ginny as he placed the watch into the box.

Ginny shakes her head. "Sorry, darling, nothing from me today. Just bringing the boys over after letting them pillage."

"Not even that ring hanging around your neck?" Facilier pointed. Ginny reached up and closed her hand around the gold signet ring that she'd hung by plain black twine. She knew he'd notice it, not just because of its beauty, but because of its placement. It was hanging by a place most of the men on this island – who she generally regarded as hard up letches – usually looked first on her. But the ring was too big for any of her fingers, so unless she wanted to leave it behind, around her neck was the only place she could wear it, even when the original owner was alive and gave it to her. Though, she usually hid it better if he wasn't there to threaten to cut out the eyes of anyone who looked a little longer than he liked. Unlike the boys, she had a connection to her item and, even if they didn't realize it, she was actually upset at what was going on. They shouldn't be doing this, desecrating a dead man's belongings – on Christmas no less. But she knew was speaking from the heart, and from the feeling within it. Feelings that she didn't realize were so authentic until she found the body.

"Not for sale. Keeping it's the very least I'm owed for having to put up with him," she smiled and said for those in the room.

"Not even if I offered fifty coins?"

Ginny glared at him. "Not even if you offered the whole shop," she said, sounding impatient with a hint of anger. "It's mine." It's all I have left of him, she thought.

Harry and Anthony looked at each other and nearly laughed. Facilier just shrugged. "Then we're done today. And seeing as I have better things to do, please get out," he ordered.

As the three of them shuffled out, and Facilier departed for his living area behind the shop building, Chad couldn't help but think about what he just saw, and heard. _Pillage_ , he remembered hearing. "Did they really steal from a dead person?" he asked the Spirit. There was no response. "Will you at least tell me who's dead?" The Spirit just raised his eyebrows. "This can't be how death is handled here, even at Christmas. Surely you can show me some kind of genuine emotion over the death of someone from this Godforsaken island." The Spirit began to once again envelop the two of them in fog, this time it feeling far less menacing than last time.

* * *

The cold air was the first thing Chad felt when fog cleared. He looked around, and felt a slight sense of dread. He also felt like kicking himself for his request. The place he been brought to was quiet, uncomfortably quiet. Not the kind of quiet that comes from just being empty. That was different. In those places there was the expectation that eventually, someone – something – would come by and create some kind of sound or interruption to break up the stillness. But cemeteries are always the kind of quiet that make Chad nervous. There were no rustling of animals or chirping of birds, at least none that he could gather were around. Even this one area, the part set aside for the royal family was too eerily quiet for him.

They were at the gate that separated the royal's area from the commoner's. The Spirit began walking, looking back over his shoulder at Chad, his glare beckoning him to follow. Chad resisted for a second, then began following, reasoning that keeping up was preferable to whatever the Spirit might do to him if he didn't. As they walked, Chad looked around at the different headstones, statues, or cenotaphs, and felt himself becoming sick. He remembered coming here sometimes as a small child when his parents wanted to visited departed relatives. But he hadn't been here since they'd buried Gerry here all those years ago. Part of him hoped he wasn't being led there. That part quickly regretted that thought when he saw where they were headed. Near the back, where the mausoleum and surrounding graves were. The mausoleum was reserved for the past kings and queens. The surrounding graves for the members of the royal family who weren't the ruling monarchs, but close to it.

Standing outside, next to a statue of a kneeling angel, its wings slightly outstretched as if they were actually being brought in, and its hands clasped making it look like it was praying over the grave. There was a bouquet of pink camellias laid in front of the angel's base. His parents were in front of the statue, his father with his arm around his mother who was crying into him. "That's not me is it?" he asked, more afraid of the answer than the nerve it took to ask the question.

The Spirit just looked down at the statue, and then looked back at Chad.

"Really? Not even a name? This is getting annoying," he barked at the Spirit, not liking this one at all.

"I can't believe its been a year," he heard his mother sob.

"I know, but, I'm sure –"

"Don't you dare say she's in a better place," Cinderella cut him off, her voice wavering between anger and pain.

"She…?" Chad muttered to himself. He re-gauged his mother's anguished reaction, and took a closer look at his father. He was sullen, but his eyes were red and, while he wasn't crying like his wife, they were watered, probably from trying not to cry to be strong for his wife. Chad turned to the Spirit, the look of last ditch hope in his eyes. "That's not…? No, it can't be. That's just cruel if it is," he told the Spirit who stood before him silent, his hands behind his back. "Who is it? Answer me," he shouted when the Spirit remained quiet. All he did was tilt his head toward the statue.

Slowly, Chad stepped toward where his parents were standing. He looked toward them, upset that he could help console his mother. Finally, after a few seconds of trying not to look, he turned toward the statue and read the inscription on its base:

 **Dizzy Tremaine**

 **Beloved daughter, niece, granddaughter**

 **December 28, 2006 - December 30, 2018**

He felt his eyes begin to tear up, and wondered why. He wasn't close to Dizzy. But the idea of her dead still hit him hard all the same. He mentally did the math, and felt himself become angry. "Twelve? She was twelve?" he railed at the Spirit. "Is this what the last Spirit meant when she said that she couldn't see Dizzy's future, because she doesn't have one? What the hell? What was it? Why is she dead?"

The Spirit turned to look at Chad's parents.

"We should've seen something. Noticed… _something_ ," Cinderella said, finally able to get her crying under control.

"Honey, there was nothing to notice," Charming consoled her. "You heard the doctors, she could've been fine for years before, and never felt like something was wrong."

"She said she had a headache that morning. We should've take her to the –"

"No one goes to the doctor because they have a small headache," Charming stopped her. "Again, like the doctor said, it might not have even been the headache. Aneurysms don't have symptoms that are easy to see. If anything, we should just be glad that the doctor was able to tell us that she didn't feel it."

"Just because she didn't have any pain doesn't make me feel better. Having her here would," Cinderella said, and then started crying all over again. Charming began leading his wife away from the grave, the cold and the emotion becoming more than he – either of them actually – could take.

"An aneurysm? She dies because of basically a time bomb in her head?" Chad asked the Spirit since even he knew what an aneurysm was. "She's not here with us, with my mother, because of a stupid…," Chad let out a pained grunt at the end, the words leaving him for the moment. "She was twelve," he shouted at the Spirit. "She shouldn't be in the ground. She should be back at the palace, helping my mother decorate the place for New Year's. Or with my Dad, probably learning to ride horses, or whatever else he was looking forward to showing her. Or annoying me by following…me…around," he ranted, slowing at the end, a light bulb going off in his mind. "Where am I?" he asked confused. "Why wasn't I with Mom and Dad visiting her? What happened to me?"

As an answer, once more Chad saw the fog billow out from Spirit.

* * *

Chad recognized where he'd been brought this time – Auradon Castle. He recognized the room they were in as the main ball room. And he could see that it was still Christmas since the room was still decorated. Christmas, and the room's corresponding decorations were the only things that seemed familiar however as he looked at who was overseeing the last touches on what he knew was going to be Auradon Castle's annual Christmas Ball, and didn't believe his eyes.

It was Mal.

But she looked…different. Older was the word that came to mind. Not a lot older, maybe ten years, but enough for him to tell that this was not the Mal he'd seen earlier at that damn Christmas party. She was still beautiful, he'd admit that freely, but now she didn't look like she was the angry girl that came from the Isle who struggled to decide whom and what she was. Instead, there was a confidence to her, as if all those questions has been answered and she was at ease with herself finally. He also noticed two big differences from what from her teenage years: one was that giant diamond on her left hand. The other was on her head.

"So he really did make her Queen," he mused as he studied the smaller, informal tiara resting in her hair instead of the larger ceremonial crown. Upon a closer look, he could see that it looked like she was upset. "She loves Christmas, so what's wrong?" he asked the Spirit. The Spirit merely turned to look toward one of the ballroom's entrances.

Looking over as well, Chad watched as Ben walked in. Chad noticed that while he wasn't any taller, he was a little bulkier, showing that he'd put on a few pounds, though none of it looked like needless weight gain, simply just a few more muscles to fill out. Chad chuckled realizing that if Ben was taller he'd look more like his father.

"Is it true?" Mal asked, her voice wavering.

Ben nodded. Mal closed her eyes and tried to fight back the tears. Ben pulled her to him, and Chad could hear her whimper. "Charming and Cinderella didn't survive this morning's car crash."

"What?" Chad shouted. He turned toward the Spirit, not sure what to feel at the moment. "Didn't survive? Mom and Dad are…," he trailed off, unable to finish the question.

"They shouldn't have even been on the road this morning," Mal said as she pulled herself closer to her husband.

"I know," Ben consoled her, stroking her back. "But you how Cinderella was, she was not going to miss visiting Dizzy's grave on Christmas. Charming was sure they could beat the blizzard back to their palace, but in blew in earlier than expected."

"This is terrible, not just for them, but…what's going to happen to their kingdom?" Mal asked. "Do we need to find Chad?"

"No," Ben answered. "That's not even an option."

"Why the hell not? I'm the freaking crown prince," he shouted at Ben.

"After forcing us to sentence him to the Isle all those years ago, he was stripped of his title and any claim to his kingdom's throne," Ben explained to his wife.

"Isle? I'm on the damn Isle?"

Before Ben could say any more, one of the butlers walked in and got the King and Queen's attention. "I'm sorry to be disturbing you, Your Majesties, but Charmington's representative just arrived here from her visit to Auradon Prep." Ben nodded, knowing what the butler was doing. With a heavy breath and even heavier expression to the situation, he spoke. "Presenting Her Royal Highness, Harriet, Grand Duchess of Charmington."

"Grand Duchess?" he muttered.

The butler gave a small nod to the maid that accompanied him to the ballroom. She in turn gave a small nod, followed by a curtsy as Harriet walked into the room. Chad felt his jaw drop at the sight of her. Like Ben and Mal, she appeared older, but he was almost mesmerized by the sight of her. Even Chad would admit that Mal had become more beautiful in the corresponding years, but he was now convinced that Harriet, who he already thought was beautiful, could only be described now as gorgeous. Her skin was the same fair, cream colored tone, but now she was highlighting it with a small amount of make-up. Her hair, which he remembered her usually wearing down, and letting move on its own, was done in a loose bun that pulled it away from her face and let her crystal blue eyes draw their proper attention.

"Harriet," Mal sobbed as she approached her friend. As the two women embraced, Chad watched them both begin to cry. He wanted to walk over and hug them, but knew he couldn't. "Where's…?"

"In contact with the palace. He's checking what the law says for a situation like this as far as succession," Harriet answered her.

"And they've already given me an answer," said a man as he strode in quickly. Chad didn't recognize him right away. He was tall, taller than Ben, and Chad almost assumed he was as tall as Ben's father. He was also very broad, like he was belying a strong body under his attire. He had dark hair, and kind looking brown eyes. For the life of him, Chad felt like he should recognize him.

"Patty," Harriet said, happy to see the new person in the room. She walked up to him and, much to Chad's shock, the two of them kissed each other hello.

"What? Patty…?" he said to himself. He searched his mind for anyone with that name, and after a few seconds…he almost didn't want to believe it. "Patrick?" he asked out loud, stunned at the revelation. "That's _Patrick_? Little, nervous around girls – _especially_ Harriet – Patrick. She married Patrick?" he asked the Spirit who he found had made his way to stand against one of the pillars. "Now I really want to know where the hell I am. Oh yeah, they said the Isle."

"What did the palace say?" Harriet asked.

Patrick took his wife's hand and turned to face her as well as Ben and Mal. "According to the law, in the event of the untimely death of the King and Queen, if there is no definitive heir – like we have now, well…" he began, pausing before relaying what he'd been told. It wasn't that it was upsetting, it was weightier news than he was expecting, and still didn't totally believe it.

"Patrick, what is it," Ben pressed him.

"Out with it, Patty," Harriet encouraged him.

Patrick took a deep breath. "With no heir, the law states that the next in line for the throne are…the Grand Duke and his wife."

The room fell silent, all of them registering the news in their own way.

"But you're…," Harriet said, just barely loud enough to be heard. Patrick nodded. "You're going to be…?"

"Crowned King once we get home."

"But that also means that…," Mal started.

"Harriet," Patrick said, taking her hands and looking her in her eyes. "You're going to become Queen."

"How did all this happen?" Chad asked as he charged in the direction of the Spirit. When he finally close enough to be face to face with him he let loose. "How the hell did all this happen? Dizzy, Mom and Dad – all dead. Me – not here to ascend to the throne. I asked you to show me where _I_ am, and instead I get this. No, you show me what I want to see: where I am."

The Spirit smiled, half arrogantly and, if Chad didn't know any better, half evilly, and stood up. He adjusted the cuffs on his suit before putting his hands behind his back. Once again, but faster this time, almost as if the Spirit was anxious to get to their destination, fog enveloped them until they were being whisked away.

* * *

When the dark billowing fog, which was even darker that the first time Chad saw when he refused to follow the Spirit cleared, they were inside a small, barely recognizable bedroom. There were clothes strewn across the floor, the drawers looked as though they had been ransacked, and the walls had been defiled with graffiti. The only thing not touched was the bed, and Chad mused that the only reason was because whoever did all this was probably not willing to touch the dead body laying upon it, covered only in a single white sheet.

"I said to…I asked to see where I was," Chad told the Spirit, the angry bluster from moments ago gone in the face of the scene he now found himself in. The Spirit, in answer to the prince's statement, simply raised one of his eyebrows and cocked his head toward the bed. Chad shook his head. The Spirit, his eyes and face showing his impatience, pointed at the bed. When Chad didn't move, the Spirit grabbed him by the arm and dragged him next to it, and pointed to the body.

"I don't want to," Chad told him, his voice barely a whisper. The Spirit once again cocked his head toward the body.

Chad looked at the Spirit, and realized that he was not going to have a choice. All night, with all three Spirits, he'd been sarcastic, snarky, sometimes condescending, and most of all, defiant. But now, he was actually afraid. There was a chill running through him, and it had nothing to do with the cold air. Closing his eyes, he reached for the sheet, grabbing the end near the body's head. Once he felt he had – for better or for worse, he didn't know – a sure enough grip he tugged the sheet until he felt enough fall away. He opened his eyes, as slowly as he could because he was too terrified to do it quickly. Once they were open, and his view unencumbered, he stood there frozen, his blood practically cold in his veins, and could feel his lips and jaw quivering. Laying there, on the bed, its eyes closed and its skin a pale, ghostly white, was the body of Chad Charming, a few years older, and a little more world weary from being on the Isle, but it was him.

Chad felt the tears start running down his face. He started thinking back to what this Spirit had shown him. The suit and watch Harry and Anthony had said they procured. The signet ring that was hanging around Ginny Goethel's neck. At the time, he didn't want to admit that they all looked familiar. But now, he knew – they were his belongings. They'd stolen from him, probably before his body had even gone cold. And now, he didn't know what was going to happen to him, but he knew one thing. He was on the Isle of the Lost, dead and alone.

"This can't be it," he sobbed to the Spirit. "I can't die like this. Am I? Can I? Left alone to rot in some shack on this Godforsaken island, my stuff stolen by vultures picking a carcass clean." The Spirit looked at him impassively, almost as if he was letting the whimpering teen stew in his own grief and fear. Chad started shaking his head and pacing the length of the bed.

"No, it can't, it just can't. Gerry said all this, you guys, was all to avoid…to avoid all this," he said to himself, starting to realize what was being given to him to see. "That's it isn't? You're showing me what could happen, but not what _will_ happen. None of this is set in stone is it? After all why make me go through all this, making me relive my past and see what's gonna happen today, if I'm beyond all hope of changing," he ranted toward the Spirit. "Aha, that's it, I can keep this from happening, I just have to stop being that ass that everyone hates being around this time of don't I? I will…I will stop, I'll change, I promise, I won't be who I was before, I'll be better. I'll start keeping Christmas the way it should be. I'll live its lesson every year…all year, but this," he pointed to his corpse, "THIS won't happen. Please, please send me back so I can fix this. Please, please…"

As Chad begged the Spirit to send him home, a light, almost see through fog began to fill the room.


	7. Chapter 7

Author's Note: I know this update took a LONG time to happen. I'm sorry for that. But I just wanted to get it right. Actually, this chapter was supposed to be a little longer, but I felt the last part was going to be a little too obvious for something that happens in the next chapter (yes, this is just part one of Chad's redemption), and I didn't want to feel like I was repeating myself, so I cut the last part out of this chapter. I'm hoping to have the next chapter up sometime in November, or at least by the first week of December (the next story I'm updating usually takes the longest to write when it's that story's turn).

Please enjoy…

* * *

 **Chapter 6 – A Bright, Shining New Day**

"Please! Please! Please…," Chad woke up screaming. He sat up in his bed almost violently, looking around. Gone were strewn about clothes – well, most of them, he wasn't exactly know for picking up after himself consistently – and the walls were clean and devoid of graffiti. Most importantly, after a quick check to make sure he was physically intact, he realized he was alive; not a corpse lying under a death shroud. Looking around again, he saw slivers of light peeking out from his drawn blackout curtains. He got out of bed and pulled them open. The sun wasn't high in the sky yet, but it was still high enough that he recoiled from the sight of its light. He redrew the curtains and stood, contemplating what he just saw. Could it really be, he thought.

"Hey, Quorra, what time is it?" he said out loud to his phone.

"The current time is eight-twenty-four a.m.," came the mechanical female voice from his phone.

"Eight-twenty-four," he whispered. "They did it all in one night? What am I saying, of course they did it in one night, they could do anything they want," he rambled as he looked down at himself. "Gotta get some clothes," he finished as he rushed over to his closet.

* * *

"Do you really think that Chad will actually be awake when we get there?" Charming asked his wife as they were rode in the backseat of the car taking them to pick up their son.

"I told him we were coming. He had better be," Cinderella remarked as she remembered the conversation with him the night before.

They rode in silence for a few more minutes when Cinderella heard her phone ring. She retrieved it and was pleasantly surprised to see that it was her son. "Good morning, honey," she said upon answering. "Your father and I are almost at your dorm."

"I'm not there," Chad told her.

"What? I told you we'd be coming by," Cinderella said almost raising her voice.

"I know," Chad said matter-of-factly.

"What's going on?" Charming whispered to his wife. Cinderella mouthed that Chad wasn't at his dorm. "Son, where are you? And considering you know we're coming by to talk to you about your behavior last night, it better be injured and at the hospital."

"Actually…I am at the hospital," Chad admitted.

"What? Are you okay?" Cinderella practically shouted.

"I'm good. I'm here because, I, uh…I brought Dizzy," he stammered.

"Dizzy?" both his parents said out loud.

"She's getting…I really think you need to get down here."

* * *

Chad was sitting next to Dizzy's hospital bed in the uncomfortable plastic chair that came next to every bed in the ER. And he hated it. Seriously, he thought, they put padded ones in the rooms, why not down here. As he fidgeted, trying to find a way to get somewhat comfortable, he looked over at Dizzy who was laying in the bed.

"You sure you don't need anything?" Chad asked the twelve year old.

Dizzy shook her head. "Other than a little more sleep, I'm okay," she told him sarcastically. He smiled awkwardly as he understood where she coming from. She'd been surprised, and that was putting it mildly, when he woke her up by pounding incessantly on her dorm room door until she finally answered.

 _"Chad?" she asked groggily as she rubbed her eyes and squinted at him._

 _"You need to get dressed," Chad told her quickly. "You know what, this is good, just grab a jacket," he changed his mind. Dizzy screamed at him that she needed her glasses too as he practically dragged her from her dorm and to his car. The entire way she was asking what was going on, and she became even more demanding when she discovered that Chad was taking her to the hospital. She tried to tell the doctors that nothing was wrong, and that she felt fine, but it seemed like they refused to listen to her over Chad._

Even now, while resting, she was still a little equal parts annoyed and angry at the situation. She was still in her pajamas, and her hair, usually arranged in pigtails or a pair of buns, was down and resting just below her shoulders. She wished she'd been allowed to get dressed, instead of being here for whatever reason Chad refused to share. Even more, she wished Chad had let her grab her phone, because she was bored out of her mind. Chad had offered to let her use his, but she declined, not wanting to accidentally run across something she shouldn't, or – more importantly – didn't want to see.

"Not even a blanket, a snack, some hot chocolate…coffee?"

"I'm fine," Dizzy said flatly.

Suddenly, the curtain separating Chad and Dizzy from the few other patients came open and standing there were Chad's parents.

"Chad, Dizzy, thank God," Cinderella said with relief as she raced over to Dizzy and threw her arms around the young girl. "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Dizzy answered her, not hiding her annoyance. "Chad just woke me and dragged me here. Then he made them scan my head."

Chad looked to both his parents who were now looking at him, clearly upset. "What on Earth would possibly possess you to bring Dizzy to the ER?" Charming barked at his son.

"Dad, you need to trust me here," he told him, hoping that he could reason with them, without having to go into detail, and sound completely insane to them.

"Trust you? She's fine," his father almost shouted. Before he could begin to demand more concrete answers from his son, a doctor walked up, and politely cleared his throat to get the attention of everyone.

When the assembled family was finally quiet and looking toward him, he moved in a little more. "Good morning," he said delicately, reading the tension in the small area.

"Good morning, Doctor," Cinderella greeted, trying to sound calm despite her frustration. "I am so sorry that your time was wasted this morning," she continued.

"It's alright, Your Highness, just doing my job," the doctor said as he moved over to stand next to the bed.

"Well, our son certainly did waste it," Charming said as he looked down at Dizzy. "After all, Dizzy is perfectly healthy." The doctor looked at Charming, and then at Cinderella, and raised his eyebrow. "She is, isn't she?"

The Doctor laid the file he'd been carrying on the bed near Dizzy's legs, took a pen light out of his lab coat and leaned down closer to Dizzy. He motioned her to remove her glasses and proceeded to shine the light in her eyes. She recoiled harshly from the brightness. After a quick, "mmhmm," he stood back up and grabbed the file.

"Doctor?" Cinderella asked, growing worried at the lack of an answer to her husband's assertion of Dizzy's health.

"How are you feeling Dizzy?" the Doctor asked.

"Fine," she answered slowly, herself starting to worry like her Aunt.

"No headaches, dizziness, vision more blurred than normal?" Dizzy shook her head. "What about a stiff neck, vomiting, any fainting?" Once again, Dizzy answered no.

"Doctor," Charming pressed him.

The Doctor sighed before speaking. "Your son brought Ms. Tremaine in this morning, and was adamant that we needed to run tests on her – her head specifically. At first we weren't going to until we reached you, but then he made a comment about her having a time bomb in her brain. So to assuage him, we ran tests, an X-ray, and an MRI."

"And…?" Cinderella asked, more fearful that the previous minute.

"The MRI discovered a…bulging in one the blood vessels in the posterior communicating artery in her brain," the Doctor began. Cinderella gasped in shock, and Charming looked stoic, but under the surface, he was quickly becoming a bundle of nerves. Dizzy sat back and felt sick to her stomach. "In layman's terms, Dizzy has an unruptured aneurysm near the back of her brain."

"Oh my God," Cinderella choked out in fright. Charming went over to his wife and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. Dizzy began to cry, feeling unsure and scared until she suddenly felt a hand take hers. She looked to right and saw Chad holding it.

"Is there a treatment or procedure?" Charming asked, hoping.

"In normal cases like this, in someone her age, we would normally just monitor her, see if it grows or decreases, but Dizzy's case, due to the size of bulging, we need to treat her now. The treatment's called endovascular coiling, which basically means we'll run a small tube into the blood vessel and divert blood away from the aneurysm, preventing more blood from accumulating and eventually rupturing. The procedure takes no more than two hours usually, and since we've found it unruptured, she can be sent home after a day or two with some restrictions. After that, four to six weeks for a full recovery."

"When can we do this?" Cinderella asked softy, trying – and slightly failing – to not cry in front of her niece.

"I would normally be getting her prepped right now, however, call it chance or fate, but your kingdom has one of the best neurology clinics in all of Auradon. They do these kinds of procedures all the time, frankly there's no place better," the Doctor said with a reassuring smile. "Dizzy's perfectly fine to travel, and I've called ahead and sent them everything we've collected today. They'll be ready for her as soon as you can get her there."

"Thank you, Doctor," Charming said with a nod.

"C-could I die from this?" Dizzy's voice squeaked through, sounding small and fragile.

"I won't lie to you," the Doctor began answering her. "If your cousin hadn't somehow known to bring you in, and it was left undiscovered, there's a chance you could've." Dizzy sucked in a pair of deep breaths, and then began crying again, uncontrollably this time. The Doctor reached over and grabbed the box of tissues from the wall mount and handed it to her. "Hey, hey, hey," he started, moving in to console her. He took Dizzy's other hand and with his free hand, pulled her face gently in his direction. "We caught it early, and as long as your aunt and uncle get you to that clinic quickly, they can treat this. Which means, so long as you keep yourself healthy, I can pretty much promise that you'll outlive everybody in this room, sweetie."

"Thank you," Dizzy sobbed, not knowing what else to say.

"Your Highness," the Doctor said to Charming, "if you'll come with me, we can begin the discharge paperwork from here so you can begin making arrangements to take Dizzy home and get her to…"

"Of course," Charming said, not letting the Doctor finish. "I'll be right back," he said to his wife, and kissed her on the cheek before leaning over and kissing Dizzy on hers as well. "You'll be okay." Dizzy nodded.

Cinderella sped over to Dizzy and leaned over her, gripping her tightly. She could feel Dizzy shaking, and began to rub her back and arms. While she was trying to comfort her niece, she raised her glance to her son. "How did you know?" she whispered to him.

He wanted to say what happened, but he knew he'd sound crazy. And truthfully, he hadn't actually thought of what he'd say to that question, even though he should have. He was just so focused on getting Dizzy examined that everything else got blocked out. Now, he was left with questions that he didn't know how to answer. All he could think of, all he found himself doing was shrugging and whispering back, "I just…had a feeling when I woke up."

He hoped it was enough, because what he had to say next, was probably not going to go over too smoothly with his mother.

"Uh, um, Mom, I kind of gotta go," he said hesitantly.

"Go? Now, when we…when Dizzy needs you here?"

"I'm sorry, I'll be back as soon as I can, but I have to take care of something really important."

"Chad," his mother said in a scolding tone.

"I promise, it won't take that long, but just in case you guys get her discharged before I do, call me, and I'll meet you…are we driving or flying?" he pressed, finally wanting know how they'd get home. Their kingdom – Cinderellasburg – wasn't so far that it couldn't be driven, but with the urgency that the doctor spoke with, he didn't know what his parents would do.

"We're flying, I'm not going to waste any time getting home for this. One hour, that's when I expect you at the airport," Cinderella told her son emphatically.

Chad nodded and leaned over until he was next to Dizzy. He tapped her shoulder gently, and the young girl turned to face him. "I'll be back, okay?"

Dizzy sniffled and nodded. She mouthed the words thank you to him and turned back into her Aunt's embrace.

* * *

I really hope I'm not waking them, Chad thought as he finished knocking – after ringing the doorbell first. He heard that Mal was a late sleeper, and he knew that Jane certainly was whenever school was on break. And from what he'd seen of Harriet from the morning class they had together, she wasn't a fan of mornings, or even waking up early, but could if she had to. He knew Fairy Godmother was an early riser, but didn't if the break in classes was also a break in that routine. The only real wild card was…

"Morning, Chad," he heard a male voice almost growl as the door opened.

Damn it, Chad thought fearfully, he would be awake – and the one to answer the door.

"Da-Dagon. Mr. Dagon. Sir Dagon," Chad stumbled as he was face to face with Mal and Jane's father. The glare from Dagon's eyes caused the blood in his veins to practically turn as cold as the morning air despite the calm expression on the man's face.

" _Sir_ , is good for right now," Dagon smiled with restrained glee at the sight of Chad becoming suddenly afraid of him. "What can I do for you?"

Chad visibly gulped, and then mustered what courage Dagon hadn't scared out of him. "I, uh, need to talk to Jane."

"Come to see what else you can say to almost make her cry?"

"You know about that?" Chad asked. Dagon nodded with a small grin, and suddenly images of all the terrible things Dagon had probably done in his past flashed through Chad's mind. Granted, most of those were done when he was still Diablo, but knowledge of the stories certainly didn't help. "I'm actually here to apologize," he announced nervously. "Please don't kill me."

"You can wait in the living room," Dagon said after a few tense seconds, letting Chad in. Chad watched as Dagon went upstairs, a little bit of his nerves and tensions leaving with him for the moment. He then walked into the living room, seeing the exact same decor he'd seen with the Spirit the night before. As he was sitting, he could smell the telltale scents of breakfast and, much to his smiling sweet tooth – cookies.

"Chad?" he heard a few minutes later. He turned and saw Jane standing at the entrance to the room. She was in her pajamas, and he almost laughed at the sight of the reindeer pajama pants she was wearing with the plain blue T-shirt.

"Hey, Jane." He got up and politely motioned for her to sit down. Jane sat down and looked at him, feeling awkward, which was not a feeling she was used to around him. "I wanted to say I'm sorry about last night. About what I said," he told her, sounding almost ashamed. "I, uh," he scratched his head, not sure what else to say since he wasn't really used to apologizing.

"Apologies aren't complicated, Chad," Jane told him with a sympathetic smile. "I'm sorry is enough," she added with a small nod. Before Chad could try to say that he felt he should be saying more, Jane leaned over and hugged him. "I forgave you yesterday because I know you didn't really mean it. So, stop thinking you need some big grand speech, okay?"

Chad nodded into her shoulder, and almost felt himself cry as he realized that despite what he thought – that everyone was giving up on him, she never really would. And it was because of that, that he knew she would help him now when he needed it. After a few seconds, he broke the hug and took a deep breath, trying to steady himself.

"Feel better?" Jane asked him. He nodded. "Good."


	8. Chapter 8

Author's Note: A little late for Christmas, I know. But I just couldn't figure out how to end this without it sounding preachy. But I think I found a way. But just to help out, since all three Spirits are together in this chapter, I won't be referring to the them as "Spirit" like I do in previous chapters – that would just get confusing. For the purposes of identification: The Spirit of Christmas Past will be referred to as "Past". Christmas Present as "Present". And Christmas Yet to Come as "Future".

I hope everyone had a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

Please enjoy…

* * *

 **Chapter 7 – Confronting the Past, Looking to the Future**

"So how's Dizzy?" Chad heard Harriet ask from her end of the phone call.

He looked over at Dizzy lying in her hospital bed, still sleeping from the effects of the pain medication. His parents and himself had been relieved when the doctor came out to them in the waiting room to let them know that everything went perfectly.

"Thank God," he remembered his mother gasping as she nearly went crazy from worrying the entire time the operation was going on.

"When can we see her?" his father had asked almost immediately after his mother practically shrunk from all the worry and tension leaving her.

An hour later they were gathered around her hospital bed in her private room. They'd been told that she probably wouldn't wake up for a while due to the anesthesia, but none of them left until her eyes finally opened slowly and she squeaked out a, "Where am I?"

That was two days ago, and they'd been with her every day. His mother never even left the hospital. His father and himself had to bring her fresh clothes when they came by. Cinderella would be there now, but his father had insisted that she leave a for a little bit, if only to eat something that wasn't prepared by the hospital. Chad had offered to stay while they went to eat. While spending Christmas day in a hospital wasn't on a list of things he'd ever thought he'd be doing, he knew that making sure Dizzy wasn't alone was more important sleeping in.

"She's good, sleeping right now," he answered.

"No lingering effects?"

"No," he answered with a shake of his head, mentally wondering who he was shaking his head for. "The only thing that made her upset was before the surgery."

"Before?"

"She was terrified at the thought that they were gonna shave her head," he smiled.

"Shave?" Harriet asked him, her voice belying her confusion. "But me and Jane did some research on the surgery. They don't need to shave her whole head. Just a little bit where the incision's gonna be. She could use the rest of her hair to hide the bald spot until it grows back."

"I know," Chad answered nonchalantly.

"So why did she think they were gonna shave her head?"

"Because that's what I told her they were gonna do," he laughed into the phone.

"Chad, that's not nice," Harriet said, undisguised admonishment in her voice.

"But it was funny," he joked. "So how's the palace?" he asked, hoping to get Harriet off the subject of his slight tormenting of Dizzy.

"Alright, Belle let Jane come over earlier today, so I had someone to hang out with when Mal and Ben wandered off to do…whatever it is they do when they're together."

"Lots of presents?"

"Eh, not a lot, but some good ones. And I don't know how you pulled it off, but thank you for the jewelry box," she said, her voice going oddly sweet. "Belle said it arrived yesterday. I didn't think the mail delivered on Christmas Eve."

"They don't, but, when you're a prince, you have certain ways of getting of what you want," he smirked.

"I don't have a lot jewelry to put in it, though."

"At least you have it for when you get some," Chad replied.

"Is that an offer, Chaddy?" Harriet asked him, trying not to sound too flirty, but smiling because she knew was failing.

Chad bit his lip, and tried not to smile. He felt a heat filling his cheeks, and was glad his mother wasn't around to see him blush.

"Somehow, showering you with jewelry doesn't seem like the best way to win you over," he told her.

"I'm not _that_ difficult to win over," she said, once again, sounding a little too flirty for the moment. "Though despite the past few days of good behavior, you would have a lot of work to do."

"You coming over in the next few days?"

"What?" Harriet asked, surprised by another sharp change in subject.

"When Jane, and Evie, and everyone else come over to see Dizzy after they release her from the hospital tomorrow? You are coming, too…right?"

"Do you want me to come?" Harriet asked, her tone going sentimental…and little bit hopeful.

"Well, I'm pretty sure Dizzy would like to see you."

"Would _you_ like to see me, Chaddy?" she asked, the question sounding more like a tease than an offer.

"Wouldn't have asked if I didn't."

"Then I suppose I can make the trip, if at the very least to see, Dizzy," she answered him. Chad nearly laughed, as he heard her let out a giggle on the other end. Probably couldn't hold it back, he thought.

"I'll see you then."

"See you, too. I need to go, Belle wants to take me ice skating, and I need to find something thick to wear to protect me from all the falling that's going to happen. I'll text you later."

"Okay. Bye. And Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Chaddy."

* * *

 _December 28_ …

The sound of the snow crunching under their feet broke the stillness of the quiet December day. But still it wasn't loud enough to calm Chad's nerves. A few days ago he'd realized that spending Christmas in a hospital was something he thought he'd never do. But today, he was doing something he swore he'd never do as he made his way through the cemetery. As he got closer to his destination, he felt like his feet were becoming heavier. He actually felt himself start to slow down until he felt a pair of arms lock into his from both sides.

"You can do this, Chad," Jane encouraged as she gently tugged him forward.

"Yeah, you'll be fine," Harriet added in an effort to comfort him. She was also pulling him, though she was maybe a little more forceful than her best friend was being with him.

Chad nodded, and continued walking. Finally, after what felt like the longest walk of his life, he made it to his goal. As he closed the distance between himself and the grave, Jane and Harriet held back, giving him some space, each knowing that he had to what was next all by himself. Chad stood before Gerry's grave, reading his name and birth and death year over and over several times. He took a deep breath to try and calm himself because he could suddenly feel his heart begin to beat like someone would a drum in double time. He also felt fidgety, and despite the cold air, he felt an overwhelming heat come over him. It was subtle at first – a slow heat, like water just beginning to boil until finally it was hot enough to be bubbling, and he found himself beginning to sweat just a little.

Before he knew what was happening, he found himself falling to his knees in front of the tombstone. He didn't know when he'd started, but he felt tears running down his face like floodgates had been broken open and the rushing water behind it was allowed to spill out. He tried to stop himself, but as he wiped at his eyes and cheeks, the tears just kept coming until he found himself doubled over, on his hands and knees. Through his tears, he stared at the blurry image of Gerry's stone once again, and in a rush of burning hot anger – more anger than he'd ever felt in his life – he started to slam his fists onto the tombstone, repeatedly, not stopping even as registered the pain in his fists. Jane and Harriet, even from the distance they'd stayed back, could hear as Chad cried in front of them, and watched as he pummeled the grave.

"Should we…?" Harriet asked, pointing in Chad's direction.

Jane shook her head. "Let him get it out."

"Why? Why did you have to go and die?" he shouted through his sobs. "Why the hell did you think you could leave me here all alone? Why? Why, damn you?" he pleaded with the stone in a rage. Despite his anger, his voice no longer carried the ability to shout, instead, he just kept asking why through choked whimpers as he – for the first time in as long as he could remember – didn't feel the weight of what he now realized he'd been carrying all these years. And in that moment, he finally understood what Gerry was telling about what he'd been doing to himself.

"Thank you," he whispered to the stone as he wiped his hand over it, brushing off the tears that had fallen on it. He heard the snow being crunched behind him and then he felt surrounded. Once again, Jane on his left, and Harriet on his right. They knelt down, and Chad buried himself in Jane's shoulder, and once again started to cry. Not the uncontrollable, rage-filled deluge from moments ago, but a release of grief and sadness that he now knew he should've let happen seven years earlier. Jane held him, stroking his hair as she began to cry as well, leaning her head on his. Harriet put an arm over his shoulder, and leaned in. Chad felt her place a small kiss on the back of his head. It was gentle and reassuring, simply letting him know that she was there for him.

A few minutes later, the three of them were heading back toward the car. They were silent once again, but this time, the tension from when they arrived was gone. Now, the silence was filled with the due respect the cemetery demanded. The driver opened the back door to the limo, and closed it behind the trio. Once inside, they settled into the seat. Jane tried not to smile as she noticed Chad and Harriet practically pressed against each other. She did smile when she saw their fingers graze over each other's in their laps right before they started holding hands. It hadn't gone unnoticed by Jane – and everyone else for that matter – that Chad and Harriet seemed to be getting friendlier. They often disappeared together, and when she questioned them on it, Chad just smiled and said he was showing her around his parent's castle. Harriet simply said Chad was trying to prove that he really had changed. She hoped Harriet was right, since she knew her friend was very hard on Chad over his behavior.

"Chad flirts relentlessly with me, but he needs to polish up his act if he hopes to have any chance at all," Jane remembered Harriet say once not too long ago. Maybe if whatever happened to Chad these past few days – things that suddenly made him be like the big brother she remembered from when she was a little girl – would keep affecting him in the long run. Because a Chad Charming that was no longer angry, no longer acting like the world could just piss off, was a Chad Charming that everyone should know, she reasoned.

* * *

As the limo pulled away from the curb, and started winding its way toward the cemetery gates to leave, on top of the hill, invisible to anyone else who might've been there to see, stood the three spirits.

"Another job well," Christmas Past commented as she followed the progress of the car.

"Well done? We rocked that job," Christmas Present commented in her usual bubbly exuberance, hip bumping her sister. Past looked at her, adjusting her glasses. Present smiled at her and winked before nudging Christmas Future with her elbow. "Nothing to add?"

Future grinned and nodded his head.

"We aren't around the mortals," Past said, leaning over to look at him. "Baby Sister and I know you _can_ talk."

Future looked over at Past, and then down at Present. Both of his sisters were looking at him expectantly.

He started to walk off, only making it a few steps before he felt hands grab at his shoulders from behind. There was a pulling sensation, and suddenly, arms were wrapped around his shoulders, hugging him as legs wrapped around his waist. He immediately reached to hold the legs, so Present – she always liked to be carried by him when she was feeling especially happy and playful, like after a successful job – didn't cause him to lose balance.

"Let's go home," Present cheered as Future began to carry her away. As the three of them made their exit, they faded away, waiting for next year, and the next person who needed their help.

As they were almost completely faded out, Future relented to his sister's request. "God bless us, everyone."

The End


End file.
